Reborn
by Nyelow
Summary: FanFiction of a completely different adaptation - with a few similarities - based on the Suicide Squad characters, looks, and styles - on how Harleen became Harley Quinn, and how she met the Joker. This is a romanticized version of their relationship. The King and Queen of Gotham.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

As the massive Gothic structure towered higher than most buildings in Gotham city, it looked as though it touched the heavens. Considering this was holy ground, the old church stood in a sinister way, that seemed to echo off of the violet night sky.

This was a place where she found sanctuary. Not that Harleen Frances Quinzel was a religious person, but the sheer fact that she found some sort of peace in her mind when in the presence of this old and historic building.

Whenever she endured the sudden feeling of negativity – she would secretly visit this place. Not that she had many friends to tell of such a place, but she liked the fact that no one, not even co-workers, knew of where she went for such fulfillment.

Working as a Psychiatrist at the infamous Arkham Asylum, with no friends nor family to confide in - sometimes a place of sanctuary was needed. And the Darcy Church provided just that.

Harleen was good at her job. She loved it. But recently she has found it a little too comforting. Earning a Psychiatric Medical Degree, she was utterly fascinated by the criminal mind.

Was she wrong to find that most criminals were just misunderstood? Was she wrong to think of them as clouded geniuses that simply needed to be acknowledged? She looked to her beloved dark building – as if expecting it to talk to her, to comfort her…

Harleen took in a deep breath – the cold and crisp air lightly stung her lungs. It was well past 11pm, and she was standing outside of Darcy Church. Even though the streets of Gotham were always fairly crowded, it was still dangerous for her to be out at such a late hour.

Harleen didn't care.

She stepped towards the Church's massive duel doors, her black heels clicking under her – as if announcing her glorious arrival.

Quietly, she sat down in the middle row of the Church. A few strands of her long blonde hair fell into her face from her loosely tied ponytail, as she lowered her head as if in prayer. Harleen didn't pray – instead, this was a time to clear her thoughts. She has been deeply troubled all that day, of a strange and unnerving feeling of something big to come. She didn't know what, but something was coming. Maybe she would finally meet a decent guy?

"HAHA!"

Not realizing how loud her laugh was in such a quiet place, she quickly bowed her head once again when she noticed a Priest strike a confused glance her way. With no harm done, the Man of God continued what he was doing - Her snort bounced off of the walls.

Harleen mouthed at the floor, 'Oops! Sorry!' – but was thoroughly entertained by her own laughter.

As quietly as she could, Harleen stood up, and left Darcy Church. If something big was coming her way, let it come. She can take it.

* * *

The next morning, it was still quite dark outside when Harleen sat up in bed. Her spacious apartment was on the tenth floor – the only light that illuminated her white walls, came from the glowing city of Gotham below. Harleen lazily rubbed her eyes, so they would adjust to the faint yellow glow of city lights. She looked at the clock – reading 4:35am… she couldn't sleep. A nice, steaming hot bath sounded like a pleasant gift from the Gods at this point.

With just a single candle to light the dark purple walls of the bathroom, Harleen gently lowered herself into the over-sized white claw-foot tub. The water felt like magic against her skin. The steaming water opened her senses. She reached over to the window sill, directly to her left, and picked up an orange prescription bottle. The words, 'Valium' bluntly printed around the front of the bottle.

Taking two pills with no water, she lightly rested her head back onto the tub. The porcelain was almost a massage to her neck - closing her eyes, she slowly lowered herself, until she was fully submerged underwater.

 _A brief flash of black overfilled the image. Muscular arms outstretched toward Harleen's face, with big hands tightly wrapped around her neck._ _The ice cold water filled her lungs. Couldn't breathe! Couldn't BREATHE!_

"GASP!"

Harleen suddenly opened her eyes wide underwater, thrusting herself up so fast, that waves of hot and steaming liquid spilled out of the bathtub. Gasping for air, she comforted herself, "Not happening, not happening. It's gone and over with."

Bad memories didn't always creep up on Harleen. But when they did... it was all too real. As real as the day it happened.

"Hahaha!" She laughed to herself. "Just think, a Psychiatrist with issues of her own. How ironic." She smiled at herself. "And shit, I really need to learn how to swim."

Quickly composing herself, she decided that it was time to ready for another productive day at work. It was going to be a busy Thursday morning at work anyway. She was being assigned a new patient. This was a special case, as even her boss didn't tell her who it was – but clearly stated that she was the most qualified for such madness… whatever that meant, she took it as a compliment.

* * *

 **ARKHAM ASYLUM**

 **7:18am**

Even more dark than Harleen's Gothic Church, Arkham Asylum topped every creep factor known to man.

Why they decided to keep the criminally insane at such a ghastly place… the public will never know. But this is why Harleen went to school. This is why she got her degree – and the setting fit her deranged curiosity perfectly.

"Here's your new case, Dr. Quinzel." Dr. Channing said as he walked into Harleen's small office.

Dr. Channing was a young doctor… possibly a little too young to even get a job at Arkham, considering the little experience he had. But his father was one of the head Doctors at the Asylum.

How Doctor Channing even got his medical degree, baffled most… but Harleen wasn't that stupid - it didn't take a Psychiatrist to figure it out. Every female Doctor basked in Dr. Channing's good looks – which is why he got even further in the field. He was a snob. He was a flirt. He was full of himself. Harleen didn't like him one bit... and she liked to think that she got along with everyone!

Dr. Channing dropped a massively thick folder on Harleen's desk. She jumped in her seat, whilst pushing her glasses up further on the bridge of her nose – composing herself.

"Is this my new patient?" Harleen replied.

"Yup. He is your new patient."

"And this is his evaluation and records?"

Dr. Channing laughed out loud. Maybe a little too loud and over exaggerated. Harleen cringed. She really didn't like Dr. Channing.

" _THIS_ is just his crime history... at least that we know of." Dr. Channing continued, "He has no identity, no one has even had a one on one conversation with this man – unless they worked for him or… They're dead." Dr. Channing smiled. It was like he was doubting Harleen's abilities on this case.

Harleen was more intrigued with who her patient was. She gently opened the folder. At the top of a thick stack of papers - revealed a photo and a name.

Harleen's eyes widened with such thrill, she didn't even need to look at the name to know who her new patient was now. She loudly gasped. Not only out of shock, but also excitement!

Under the photo she read one word:

' **JOKER** '.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

 _A void of darkness spread over as far as you could see. You couldn't tell if it were day or night - yet completely different, went together so well._

 _A faint whisper with a hint of chaos echoed throughout the air, "There is a bear in the moon for anyone willing to see it." Red stained lips smiled from ear to ear - as if it were a welcoming of madness with a hint of homage._

 _There was something comforting about this voice. So comforting that it was uncomfortable._

 _The blackness obscured the vision of this man. Only bits of glances were visible to the naked eye._ _His face glowed white, his lips looked of blood, his hair - the hue of a deep green, and his bright blue eyes pierced through glass - a tinge of unnatural humanity had possessed this being... but he was so beautiful._

 _Heavy gun shots cracked through the trance, the screams of many people chilled through the air, even Harleen couldn't hear her own scream._

"Dr. Quinzel? Dr. Quinzel! Are you okay with this case?" Asked Dr. Channing.

Harleen shook her head of the memory. "Y-yes. Sorry about that. I was having a moment." She gave a very convincing smile, because in all honesty, she was thrilled.

Dr. Channing studied her for a moment. "You know, you're weird. But I like you. How about that dinner and drinks I keep asking you about?"

Harleen cringed. "No thank you. I'm sure you can find someone else to go with, no problem."

"You see, that's the thing! Every single woman would love to be in your position! I'm asking _YOU_ out. You should feel flattered."

Harleen grabbed the thick folder off of her desk and stomped away with authority... Or at least, she tried to look intimidating. Dr. Channing quickly and firmly grabbed her arm, preventing her from going any further.

"Excuse me, Sir! But please take your hands off of me!"

Dr. Channing swirled her around to face him so fast, it almost knocked her glasses right off of her face. He then let go, and Harleen quickly fixed her glasses upon the bridge of her delicate nose.

Furious, Harleen raised her voice, "AND, since when is Joker in Arkham?! Did no one have any desire to tell me?! Everyone here knows that this is the case that I have been waiting for! This man, is the reason why I have become who I am today! He has inspired my degree, my work, and my _life_!"

Realizing that she just gave her co-worker a speech of passion for a man she hasn't technically met, and is considered one of the most notorious murderers and biggest crime lord... she instantly turned her head in the direction of the door. Clutching the Joker's file close to her chest, Dr. Channing called out, "I WILL have that dinner with you, Harleen! Even if you're just like your patients!"

Being chased out of her own office, wasn't exactly the best day at work. But Harleen was too consumed about her new patient. She held the file even tighter to her chest. This was the moment she had been waiting for. The devotion she spilled into her work, was because of... the Joker. His mind would be the most fascinating thing to pick and prong at with her words. Any other day, she probably would have quit her job, and found another because of Dr. Channing's idiotic and juvenile actions. But today was special - today was why she held out for so long at Arkham.

Wanting to get the details of Joker's arrival, and anything she could possibly get her hands on - Harleen wanted to speak to the head director of the Asylum. Still clutching the Joker's file close to her chest, Harleen approached the black and silver plated reception desk, whom also had security breathing down your neck. Harleen carefully smudged her glasses back up her nose and carefully asked, "I would like to speak to Dr. Flimmel, please. It's about the case I just received. You see, I-"

"Dr. Flimmel has been expecting you, Dr. Quinzel." The dark-haired female receptionist interrupted. "He will see you now."

"Thank you."

Coming to an office that you would think would contain a King's throne, the gold name plaque spread across the double doors read:

 **'Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane: Director's Office'**

Harleen politely knocked first. "Come in!" Demanded a man's voice.

With a loud buzz, the automatic locks deactivated for entry. She slowly opened the double doors, which took a little effort. Harleen had never been in the Director's office before. She never really needed to. But today... today was special for her. A slight grin escaped her lips - and with that, Dr. Flimmel took that as an invitation. "Well now, I didn't think you would be so excited to see my office!" He exclaimed. "I thought you would be more nervous about your new patient! Can I show you around?"

"Um, no thank you. I just wanted a little more insight on how and when the Joker arrived in Arkham. I thought he was untouchable."

Taken aback by Harleen declining his invintation to show her around his 'throne', Dr. Flimmel smirked. "Okay, have a seat Harleen. I can call you Harleen, right? I'm sure you don't mind." Before she could even reply, he turned his back and walked to his impressively substantial wooden desk. Sitting Lions were carved at each end of the desk as the base.  
The room seemed like a vast chamber of a bad dream. Almost like a room that you were taken to, to learn of your demise... like the walls were built out of a part of each insane and deranged individual that ever walked the halls of the Arkham Asylum. Not even her office was this unsettling. It was cool to look at, but unsettling.

As they sat down, Dr. Flimmel began. "The Batman contained Joker. Not even he knows how he did it... it was almost like... the Joker wanted to be caught. Only God knows why, but we sure don't."

Harleen's eyes filled with such facination, something like that would be considered dangerous. Why would the Joker want to come to Arkham? Out of boredom? Or was it apart of a bigger plan that he's already thought out? Harleen knew that the Joker was a genius. And to question his motives would be a risky thing to do... She loved the thrill.

"But other than that." Dr. Flimmel continued, "Nothing else is known about the infamous Joker. And that is up to you, Harleen. Considering that you've had a brief encounter with the Clown in the past, and lived to see the light of day again..."

Harleen suddenly remembered her distant memory that came to her in her office earlier, but quickly shook it off, and continued to listen to Dr. Flimmel.

"The staff board and I thought that you were the best candidate for such a complex, and dangerous case. You seem to... uh, have a way with the criminally insane."

Harleen glowed with such energy and inspiration - it was hard to miss the look in her eyes.

Dr. Flimmel squinted at her, as if trying to understand what she was thinking. He continued, "You will be provided with the proper security clearance, and will be guarded closely with your sessions with the Joker. Find out what makes him tick. Find out who he is. Find out how to break him. Find anything, and there will be some very happy people. If you can get through to him, it would be a miracle."

"Has anyone tried to speak with him yet?"

Dr. Flimmel chuckled, but not out of amusement, "He's been here for four days. The only reason why you're just hearing of this now - is because we gave this case to Dr. McDonald from Incrane Asylum in Alaska. One of the best Psychiatrists in the world. He flew here immediately on such a case..."

Harleen sat patiently, waiting for him to finish - as Dr. Flimmel took a deep breath, picked up a glass square decanter, and poured himself a glass of Brandy. Swigging it down, he continued, "Apparently the Joker didn't like McDonald's name. That didn't end very well for Dr. McDonald. He's currently in ICU at the Gotham Hospital."

That baffled Harleen. "Didn't you have security?"

"Indeed, we did. Joker is quick, witty..." Dr. Flimmel exhaled, "Smart."

A moment of silence.

"He will be properly detained, I can assure you."

Harleen didn't want to lie to herself... but she must admit, she was a bit nervous.

"Anyway!" Dr. Flimmel exclaimed, "You start tomorrow. Here is your new badge." Dr. Flimmel handed Harleen her new access card, but kept a firm hold of it when she grabbed it, and stared into her stunning blue eyes through her crystal clear glasses - lowering his voice so that it sounded more of a threat than a concern, "And don't be stupid."

Harleen hesitated, with both of them still having firm hold of the access card - before Dr. Flimmel let go. Harleen put the new card into her white lab coat and calmly confirmed, " I know that the Joker is full of manipulating lies. I know that he likes to play games, and I won't let him get under my skin. You can count on me, Doctor."

"Good. Because I'd hate to see a beautiful and smart mind go to waste. By the way, would you like to go to dinner?"

Harleen annoyingly closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply, "No thank you, Sir. I've got work to do."

"You better watch that tone, Harleen. Or I might give you something to talk about." Dr. Flimmel chuckled.

Still clutching her file, and without looking back, Harleen walked as quickly as her heels would carry her - right out of Dr. Flimmel's office.

"Sometimes," She said to herself, "I think the wrong people are admitted to Arkham.".


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**  
 **I want to thank you for the favorites, follows and the reviews so far :) Truly, it means a lot to me - so hearing any kind of feedback is much appreciated! I don't exactly know where this novel is going, but I'm going with what I feel. I have a good feeling that this story is going to turn out amazing! I'm currently building up the suspense for when we finally get the Joker into play with Harleen.**  
 **I've been intensely getting into the characters - actually trying to become each one in my spare time so that I may put out an awesome story for you to enjoy! This entire novel is how I would interpret their back stories, how they would act, and what they would do.**  
 **Keep the feedback coming!**  
 **Thank you!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 3**

"Dr. Quinzel! Dr. Quinzel!" A middle aged woman cried out from the poorly lit hallway of the Asylum. Her short pixie-cut brown hair dropped in her face as she trotted past unmarked door after door, and shook her hand half way in the air, as if to mimic a wave to get Harleen's attention.

 _'I need to work on questions. I need to be prepared. This is the biggest breakthrough of my life. This is WONDERFUL. I'm scared.'_ Harleen's mind was spinning out of control, lost in her own thoughts, she was completely oblivious - even to the poor woman stumbling to get her attention.

"HARLEEN!"

It was almost like a knock in the head - hearing her name being yelled, echoed off of the Asylum walls - broke Harleen's trance.

"Oh, goodness! I'm so sorry, Dr. Grace! I've got a lot on my mind." Harleen smiled.

"That's quite alright! And remember, call me Angie. Unless... we're around patients." Angie smiled even wider.

Angie Grace was a nice young woman. Plain in appearance, didn't wear any makeup to enhance that, but she seemed to always be in a good mood. Even considering that she worked for Arkham Asylum as a chemist, she was always full of energy.

"So," Angie continued to follow Harleen down the long hallway, "I heard about your new patient! The _JOKER_!" She said his name so theatrically, it gave Harleen a little spark of an ego boost. Angie continued, " Aren't you a little... nervous? I mean, I don't want to worry you, but did you hear what happened to Dr. McDonald?"

"Apparently it seems like everyone that works here has heard all about Joker and his four day spree in this place! Everyone but me. And for the record, bad idea to put someone into a room with the Clown Prince of Gotham with the name like, 'McDonald'!"

Angie could feel the heat of Harleen's agitation. "You know," Angie started, "The staff was told to keep quiet about the Joker's arrival here at Arkham."

"What? From the press? I would think that would be all over the news!"

"No... from you."

Harleen stopped in her tracks, and finally lowered the thick file that she clenched to her chest. "Now why on earth would the Board want to keep something like this from me? And then GIVE me the case at that! Maybe I watch the news too! I would've eventually found out. I'm sure the media thoroughly knows!"

Angie looked hesitant, "Well... No details were given, but apparently you had a run in before - with the Joker a while back. They thought it would be a sensitive subject on your behalf."

Harleen dropped her jaw, "Isn't that like, against company policy or something? Doesn't that invade _MY_ privacy? Telling the _ENTIRE_ staff of my happenings of _MY_ past! How typical. Good ol' Arkham." Harleen shook her head and proceeded to walk, finally arriving in her thankfully empty office.

Angie slowly sat down in front of Harleens desk. Harleen dropped the thick folder onto her desk, collapsing her weight into her chair. She inhaled deeply, placed her elbows upon her cold steel table - cupping her forehead, and pouted like a child on time out... except, once again, she has done nothing wrong.  
Dealing with verbal sexual harassment from her male co-workers, last to know information, and now this. She must not have a single care in the world to endure such rubbish on a daily basis.

Angie finally broke the awkward silence, "So, I don't mean to pry, and you can tell me to screw right off if you want," She chuckled, "But really...  
What happened when you ran into the Joker? How did it happen?"

Harleen didn't move from her position, but only lifted her eyes to meet Angie's. Letting out a big 'huff' of warm air from her lungs, she finally replied, "You really want to know? I didn't see much."

Angie shook her head up and down enthusiastically.

Harleen stood up to close the office door gently - she then leaned back into her high black office chair, "Okay, but like I said, I didn't see much of what had happened... I can recall the horrific screams that surrounded me... but even more, HIS voice in my ear."

"I was 18 years old. I vividly remember that it was a stormy Wednesday, because it seemed like everyone was in a gloom. The rain poured down so hard, you would think a stampede of horses were galloping down the streets of Gotham. My father, not the nicest man alive, took me with him to run to the bank. My father wouldn't usually take me anywhere, because he had..."

Harleen paused, and cleared her throat.

"He had a physical abuse issue with my mother and I. Considering that a good beating leaves marks on your body, I didn't leave the house much. Home schooled, no friends, no other known family... So, with the current bruising around my neck from almost drowning me in a bathtub for his own pleasure, he forced me to wear a scarf and threatened me if I were to take it off in public. At least I had a reason most of the time to wear my favorite handkerchief scarf. The red and black material was soothing against my aching neck. He did not want to leave me at our home, because he was afraid that my mother would take me and leave as soon as he left the house. So instead, I was practically kidnapped if he needed to leave the house. And if my mother didn't want to see me killed, she wouldn't try anything of the sort."

Angie looked more horrified from just hearing of how damaged Harleen's life was for her - rather than being concerned with the encounter with the Joker. Considering this was only 9 years ago, Angie wondered if Harleen still suffered from such tragic events. Harleen ignored Angie's tearful eyes, as she needed no sympathy. Because of how things worked out in her past, is why she is the brilliant person today. Harleen continued,

"Gotham National Bank was crowded, as expected on a busy Wednesday afternoon. Standing in line for a bank teller was painful, as my body ached from past blows from my father still lingered. I closed my eyes... and before I knew it, a loud CRASH forced my eyes wide open. Men in stylish suits wore the strangest over-sized animal masks on their heads - came rushing in. The lights went out; even though the entire front of the bank was mostly made of windows, this caused my vision to dim - with dark shades of gray, and blocks of darkness from the clouds overhead outside. Gun fire erupted my ear drums, causing me to instinctively hit the floor; cupping my hands over my ears. Everyone in the bank, including my father, also dropped to the floor in panic. In this moment, I thought I was going to die, and gladly accepted that fate - as I had wished for an easy way out many times, but never had the guts to do it. So I sat up, brought my knees to my chest, leaned my head and body against the nearest desk, and covered my eyes with my hands. Gunfire exploded everywhere, and the screams were less, and less. I waited my turn, but it never came. Suddenly, I felt hot air tingle the front of my hands. Screams of innocent lives still echoed throughout the building, and I was too terrified to look at who was breathing so closely to my face... I felt a hand gently remove my scarf, exposing my fathers handy work. And then _HE_ spoke, but ever so softly - almost a whisper, as if he wanted only me to hear him:

 _'Ah, I stopped fighting my inner demons. We're on the same side now.'_

His voice was menacing, dragging each syllable as he spoke. I dared a peek at this man who spoke to me, and slowly moved just enough of my fingers, so that I may take in a hazy glance. It was still hard to see with such dim lighting and I strained my eyes - but didn't dare move the rest of my fingers for a better view. He whispered again:

 _'There is a bear in the moon for anyone willing to see it.'_

Red stained lips smiled from ear to ear, exposing metallic teeth - I felt as if it were a welcoming of madness with a hint of homage. There was something comforting about his voice. So comforting that it was uncomfortable. The lack of light obscured my vision of this man. Only bits of glances were visible to my naked eye. His face glowed white, his lips looked of blood, his hair - the hue of a deep green, and his bright blue eyes pierced through glass - a tinge of unnatural humanity had possessed this being... but he was so _beautiful_."

Harleen just realized her last words. She had said it out loud - one of her deepest secrets, she had said out loud. She immediately looked to Angie's reaction. Instead, Angie seemed to be so consumed in the story, that Harleen quickly continued...

"I then knew who this man was. Everyone in Gotham City knew who the Joker was and what he looked like. I suddenly heard my father frantically yell my name beside me. And before I knew it, the Joker raised his gold pistol and aimed it at my father. I quickly covered my eyes again, and only heard the gun shot that claimed my fathers life. I then felt the warm liquid saturate my clothing. A gentle pat on my head... then Joker and his men were gone. Only myself and four others made it out alive."

Harleen took a deep breath. She hadn't told anyone that event in such detail... only her own Psychiatrist, which she was obliged to see because of the job field that she wanted the pursue.

"Woooooow." Angie finally replied, "To have such a rough start to life and then have your father's life taken right in front of you. I mean, even though he was abusive, there was no knowing if he would've gotten help or not - for the way he was. It seemed like he cared if he tried getting to you in such a dangerous situation. Thank you for telling me. And again, I'm terribly sorry for asking you to relive those memories."

Harleen shrugged, "No worries! I'm good now!" She slightly raised her arms in triumph and smiled.

"Wha-what happened to your mother? Is she still okay?"

"She died of cancer."

"Oh, dear," Angie looked stunned. "Geez, I am SO, so sorry, Harleen. My condolences."

"It's okay," Harleen smiled, "Thank you. But she ended up living a few more wonderful years, and she didn't suffer. That's all I could ever ask for in such a situation."

"Well, you are truly an amazing person, Harleen." Angie said as she got up, "I know you must have a lot of work to do. I'll be there to watch your first day with the Joker. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Angie".

As Angie closed the office door behind her, Harleen thought about the intense moment when the Joker shot her father. She may have told Angie one of her deep secrets, but she didn't know her darkest one yet.

"I'm glad." Harleen said through gritted teeth, "I'm perfectly glad that you were taken from me, father. The Joker changed my life... he _saved_ my life."

And that... at the young age of 18 years old, sitting on the floor of Gotham National Bank... that was the first day that Harleen Frances Quinzel became absolutely fascinated with the Joker.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:**

 **Once again - I am completely flattered with all the follows, favorites, and reviews! I seriously did not think that I would get even 5 follows, let alone over 40 in just a few days! Thank you!**

 **Now, in all honesty, I was quite nervous to put this chapter out. I adore this Joker and I wanted to make him perfect. I'm not ashamed to say, that I have been walking around the house - acting, talking, and moving like him - as if trying to become that character, so that I may perfect him through my writing.**

 **I hope you all enjoy, and just remember - a lot more is to come and it's about to get FUN :)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 4**

Another sleepless night for Harleen Quinzel. She thoroughly worked on her questions, and planned out each session that she would have with the Joker. Not only was she working through the night, but when she tried to sleep, her mind would play tricks on her - thinking she had seen a figure over her bed... She was now seeing the Joker in her sleep. This was a little extreme. Even for Harleen.

* * *

 **Arkham Asylum**

 **2:28am**

The echo of Joker's laugh spread throughout the halls of the Asylum. The slow and extended 'HA - HA - HAAA' spread malice to the ear, even to the other inmates. The thick cell door presented a plaque with the number: **0801**. **"Unknown Name"** followed underneath. The guard on duty, noticeably uncomfortable, stood near the Joker's cell door. Clenching his gun in hand, the guard shifted from each foot, trying to even his weight out - as his padding and gear weighed him down even that much more. His only view, was an openly big room, with rows of massive cell doors. Other armed guards stood nearby, as this was the only floor of the Asylum that required extra security. Some of the worst criminals resided on this floor.

Another sinister laugh escaped cell 0801. The guard, clearly annoyed, yelled into the small cell window, almost stuffing his face between the thick steel bars, "For the love of GOD, shut the fuck UP!"

"GOD? Who _isss_ this God?"

Shocked that Joker had actually replied to him, the guard slowly turned around to peek into the cell. The darkness engulfed most of the room. He could make out the haunting silhouette of the Joker. The guard knew he had nothing to worry about, as Joker was strapped to a vertical table, including a tight straitjacket to ensure little to no movement. The Joker was going nowhere.

"YOU are BLASPHEMY." The guard spat; gritting his teeth.

"Oohhh, every _great_ idea, starts out as a blasphemy... I mean, _look_ at me." Joker let out a low growl - he seemed almost animalistic, "I'm a _GREAT_ idea! HA - HA - HA - HAAAA!"

"Just started this damn job, and I'm already not paid enough for this shit." The guard mumbled to himself. Just as the guard went to turn back around, he suddenly heard a loud clatter come from the Joker's cell.

"Goddamit, what now?" The guard struggled to look into the cell, but it was still too dark to make out anything clearly. The Joker was also silent. Picking up his walkie, he radioed, "This is Bobby ID 45B12 at cell 0801. There seems to be some sort of ruckus going on inside of the cell. Request to open the door to check it out."

"Confirmed 45B12 - This is the second time inmate 0801 has stirred up in the past few days, and has ended badly. So please wait for backup to arrive before you enter."

"Copy that." Bobby replied. But being the inexperienced rookie that he is, he thought he was in no immediate danger. Joker was tightly bound, and there was absolutely no way that even someone as cleaver as Joker, was going to get out of such heavy restraints.

Using his key card, Bobby swiped it near the cell door, punched in his code, and deactivated the cell door's heavy lock... and slowly stepped inside. Turning on his poorly lit flashlight, Bobby shone the yellow light towards where Joker lay. "What are you doing, you piece of shit?" Bobby spat.

"Hmmmm" Joker finally responded, "Why don't you come just a _little_ closer. Just follow the little _WHITE_ rabbit! HA!"

Bobby looked over where Joker was propped up on the silver steel table. His straitjacket in place, everything seemed perfectly fine. Though, he could barely make out Jokers face, his piercing blue eyes watched Bobby intently. He slowly walked closer to Joker - within inches from the mad Clown himself, Bobby cautiously peeked behind the steel upright table.

The flashlight caught something white. "GAH!" Bobby jumped back, only to realize that it was simply a stuffed animal of a white rabbit... just... sitting there. Bobby laughed, "How in the hell did this get in here?" leaning to pick up the stuffed animal, he came even closer to where the Joker lay.

Suddenly, Joker's legs sprang upward, clearly he somehow diverted from his leg restraints, and tightly locked his legs around Bobby's neck - knocking his gun clear across the room. Driven by pure chaos and pleasure, there was no escaping Joker's grip. Bobby then fell to his knees, still struggling to catch his breath and loosen the death grip around his neck. It was impossible.

Joker's sinister laugh was almost as frightening as death itself, "HA HA HA! Bobby! Bobby! Bobby! Where is your _God_ now?! HA HA HA HAAAAA!"

And with that, Bobby's body went limp.

Bobby was right, the Joker wasn't going anywhere... but that doesn't mean that the Joker did not have some leverage.

Every guard in Arkham had come running to cell 0801, but it all happened in the matter of seconds. It was going to be a long night in Arkham Asylum.

* * *

 **Arkham Asylum**

 **12:15pm**

It was no secret of this mornings incident. Harleen sat at her desk, preparing for today's session with Joker at 1pm. She was truly scared, and yet excited at the same time. Hearing of the tragic incident that had just happened hours ago... what's stopping Joker from attacking her? Even with guards present, apparently that doesn't stop the Joker.  
She doubted her skills, but quickly reminded herself, that this was the moment she had been waiting for, for a very long time. She can do this. She was still absolutely fascinated by this man. But, would her immense fascination get her killed? She was willing to find out.

Making her way to the heavily secured floor where she would be working with Joker, Harleen finally made it to the session room. The room was brightly lit, small, one wall consisted of a two way mirror, and a single steel table and two chairs sat bolted to the floor inside of the room. Harleen walked up to the two-way mirror. Obviously looking in, when someone couldn't look out.

The Joker. Joker already sat in there, awaiting his first meeting with his new Doctor. Harleen lost her breath in the moment, and raised her hand to gently touch the window, as if she could touch him through the bullet-proof glass. Joker was slightly leaning over the table, clearly un-amused in his blue sweat pants that seemed to off set the eggshell colored straitjacket. His unnatural pale skin seemed to glow under the florescent lights that hung overhead, and the obsidian tone around his eyes, slightly smeared - whilst giving him a delicate touch of corruption. Harleen couldn't tell if it was makeup - or if it was some kind of permanent staining of his skin. He was... just as beautiful as the first day she had laid eyes on him 9 years ago.

Suddenly, he turned toward where Harleen lost herself in his image. She gasped, removing her hand and taking a step back. He couldn't see her, it was impossible... but it seemed like he could see her clearly.

Harleen shrugged it off and composed herself. She was soon joined by five other Doctors, including Angie and Dr. Flimmel. They were to view the first session from behind the safety of the mirror. Dr. Flimmel approached Harleen. "Dr. Quinzel," Dr. Flimmel said, "don't worry if he doesn't say much of anything - as he didn't say but four words to Dr. McDonald. Security is posted right outside of the door. You are safe."

"Thank you, Doctor." Harleen's cracked voice wasn't very convincing. But she proceeded to hold her head high - she adjusted her white lab coat over her gray pencil skirt and purple button-up blouse. She also smoothed back her hair into her loosely tied ponytail. "I'm ready, open the door."

The familiar loud BUZZ stung her ears - as a signal that the industrial steel locks were disarmed for entry. Harleen stepped inside of the session room, her eyes locked with Joker's. For a moment, it was almost as if he could see through her soul. The spark of electrifying energy pulsed within the room. Harleen didn't know if anyone else could feel it, but she sure did - as her body reacted in response to such a feeling of magnitude, she felt the goosebumps spread down her slender arms. Joker sightly parted his red stained lips, and cocked his head to the side, as if to study Harleen. He looked absolutely fascinated - almost as much as she was with him. Harleen had to break the intensity of the eye contact between them, so she calmly sat down and pulled out her papers and pen. Doing all of this, the Joker watched every move that Harleen made.

"Thank you for waiting. I'm Dr. Quinzel, and I'll be your Doctor from here on out."

Joker suddenly threw his head back, "HA - HA - HA - HAAAAAA!"

Harleen jumped, and instantly met his gaze once more. She couldn't help but to admire his stunning blue eyes, and so she smiled.

Joker lost his smile, but instead, cocked his head once more, as if trying to understand her actions. No one just smiled at the Joker - and this baffled him for a split second.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, Mister J." She suddenly stopped herself, realizing that she just unintentionally gave him a name to call him by.

"Well now," Joker spoke, as his lips parted into a devilish smile, "I think I'm going to like you. What's your full name, doll face?"

Harleen could feel her cheeks burn a faint pink. Was he really making her blush? Without thinking, she blurted, "Harleen Quinzel." Was she allowed to do that? Suddenly, it was like all of her schooling; all of her training just disappeared from her brain.

 _"Harleen Quinzel_." He seemed to touch every letter of her name with the way he spoke it. "Ya, know," he continued, "I think you look more like a Harley Quinn. What do ya say, Harley?" He slightly swayed from left to right, almost like an unintentional harmonizing dance that would quickly go unnoticed if you weren't paying close attention.

Well, he was more polite than most - even those who worked at the Asylum. Unlike Dr. Flimmel the previous day - not giving her a chance to respond that she preferred him to call her Dr. Quinzel. But Joker... she thought... the Joker - He can call her whatever he pleased.

"That sounds good to me, Mister J."

Joker flashed his metallic teeth with a huge smile of approval. He was truly enjoying himself. _"Harley Quinn_!" He said it with such enthusiasm. "It's a name that puts a smile on my face."

As the staff outside proceeded to watch in wonder, Dr. Flimmel was ecstatic that the Joker was actually speaking to Harleen. THIS could be the break through that they've been waiting for.

"I hope to get to know more of you, Mister J," Harleen continued, "Two hours a day, you may talk to me about anything you like." She flashed him an innocent smile that even captivated Joker.

"Well now," He leaned in even closer so that he may lower his voice to a whisper - she could even feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke, "I can think of many things we can do in two hours, Ms. Harley."

Trying to hide her nerves, and hoping she wouldn't blush again, Harleen instantly looked down and slowly went through her papers. Trying to decide what to ask him first - as she had _so_ much to ask him. She unintentionally bit her lip, while thinking of what to say next.

"I like it how you bite your lip when you're nervous." Joker leaned in a little closer, "Can you do that while looking at me?"

Harleen paused, looked up, and met those captivating eyes that pierced right through her soul once more - at this point, she probably looked like a deer in headlights. This time, she could feel her face turn hot, as the blood instantly rushed to her cheeks; giving her a flushed appearance. "I-I'm sorry, you have mistaken my actions." Harleen quickly tried hiding the fact that the Joker made her feel... _alive_. But she failed miserably to hide it. "So, let's start with something simple." She tried changing the subject, "What is your real name?"

Joker, clearly and instantly losing interest with such a question - sat back in his chair. "Fear of the unknown, is the _greatest_ fear of _all_."

"And what do you fear, Mister J?"

Joker laughed once again, his laugh of pure entertainment on his behalf. " _My_ beautiful Harley," He slightly swayed from left to right again, as his smile stretched across his pale face, "Once you become _fearless_ , life becomes _limitless_." He slowly closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and rolled his porcelain neck - as if to bask in his own fulfilling words.

Getting no real answers, Harleen asked, "What's your favorite color?"

Joker met her eyes, and then ever so slightly looked down to her chest. "I truly _love_ that shade of purple that you're wearing. You look _ravishingggg_!"

A long golden lock of hair fell in front of her eyes. She smiled; tucking her hair behind her ear as if bathing in his compliment.

"What color do _you_ prefer, gorgeous?" He asked.

"I love purple... but I'm also quite fond of black and red." Harleen continued, "Why are you here, Mister J? A man of such intelligence wouldn't have been caught easily."

"I have my rea-sons." He replied, extending each syllable, as if trying to make Harleen understand an inside joke. "Why are _you_ here?"

"Just like you, Mister J, I have some pretty good reasons as to why I've picked such a career."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no. No." Joker tilted his head downward, but his eyes fixated on Harleen, "Why are you here with _me_?"

Without hesitation, she responded, "You are truly a fascinating man, Mister J. A mind that no one has really understood. I honestly believe that you're not insane, nor suffer from any mental illness. Your intellect runs deep, you create unlimited resources to work with, and quite honestly," Harleen chuckled, "you're one of the most entertaining individuals I've met." She quickly pushed her glasses up closer to her eyes with her index finger; trying to keep her professional status in check.

"Why, you are truly a _remarkable_ woman." Joker growled, but could easily be mistaken for an innocent purr. Harleen thought she just might have been getting through to him. He continued, "Well aren't you just Daddy's lil monster." He smiled the widest since they first started their session.

"I don't have a 'Daddy'." Harleen whispered.

"Well, you do now!"

Harleen didn't realize it, but she had moved significantly closer to him - as he leaned toward her.

The loud BUZZ disrupted her stupor, reminding herself that there were others watching. She couldn't believe the the pull that this man had on her. Security stepped inside, "Ma'am, time is up."

Clearing her throat and gathering her things, she stood up while the Joker continued to carefully watch her. "Thank you for your time, Mister J. I'll see you tomorrow then." She gave him a warm smile.

"Oh, please do, Sweetness! I'll be seeing you real soon." His smile then immediately left his face when she walked toward the door.

Clapping from her superiors and co-workers erupted as soon as the door closed behind her. Startled, she slapped her own chest and caught her breath.

"Well, done, well done, Dr. Quinzel!" Dr. Flimmel announced. "I think that crazy Clown likes you." Harleen felt a tinge of butterflies invade her stomach. She couldn't lie to herself, she liked the feeling.

"Just... doing my job!" Harleen announced.

"And a good job at that!" Dr. Flimmel continued, "Please come see me in my office in an hour."

Harleen grunted under her breath. But what really bothered her more... she didn't think that Joker remembered her from 9 years ago. Her smile then became a mild frown. Frustrated, she thought, 'Why would he remember a young and scared girl from that long ago?! I didn't even fully move my hands from my face - so that he possibly could recognize me!'

Harleen shook her head, as if to rid of the thought. And besides, she also realized that she forgot to take notes while in session. But that was okay. Nothing in this world could possibly make her forget this special encounter. Nothing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

 **I have to thank everyone once again for their favorites, follows and reviews! Especially the reviews! A lot of you certainly make my day :)**

 **So, once again, I was quite nervous about posting this chapter because I still have the Joker in Arkham and not in his natural state :) It's a little difficult writing him, as I'm desperately trying to perfect on how the Joker manipulated Harleen, with a hint of his charm...** **Again, feedback is always treasured!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 5**

Harleen couldn't help but to feel absolutely incredible. Even though she was dreading catering to Dr. Flimmel's request for her to come and see him in his office for whatever reason, she wasn't going to let anything petty ruin her moment. Joker actually liked her. He showed interest, curiosity, complimented her, TALKED to her. She was already eager for tomorrow's session with him.

Entering the colossal double doors to Dr. Flimmel's office, Dr. Flimmel looked up to see Harleen gradually making her way inside, "Oh!" He happily exclaimed. "There's the Doctor of the evening! Sit down, Harleen. Or... should I call you _Harley_?" Dr. Flimmel burst out laughing, as if he just made the joke of the century... even though, he was certainly the only one laughing.

Harleen, thoroughly annoyed, sat down whilst adjusting her glasses upon her nose. "You asked to see me, Doctor?"

"I just wanted to congratulate you! This is going to take you substantially far within Arkham." Smiling, Dr. Flimmel continued, "You will also have access to room 248, where you may do therapy sessions with that freak."

Harleen cringed at his poor usage of the word, 'freak'. But she was also elated to know that she would have the clearance to use room 248, as it was a fully enclosed area that more or so resembled a proper therapy office - instead of a room that looked like more of a place where you were interrogated.

"Your sessions will be a little more private. Security will still be posted outside of the door, and you will record each session that you have with him. I'm applying the same logic with the main session room as well. I want you to get into this man's head, as seeing how he has taken to you fairly quickly, I am confident that you will have no issues. BUT, if you _do_ happen to run into some... complications -" Dr. Flimmel then pulled out two items from below his desk, and placed them where Harleen could see.

He first held up a small black box, about the size of his fist that contained a round red button - directly centered on the object. "This is an alarm. If you press this red button, every single security available in Arkham will be alerted of trouble. This little device will also pin point exactly your whereabouts. And as for more... desperate measures -" He then picked up the second device that he settled onto his desk. It was a black and yellow oddly shaped... gun?  
"This is a taser gun. Just pull this little trigger here, and this baby releases 25,000,000-volts for an effective dead stop to your attacker. Use this IF you really need to."

Dr. Flimmel slid the two devices towards Harleen's hesitant hands. She gently picked them up, whilst examining the items - and then carefully put them in her lab coat pocket.

"Those are just for your protection." Dr. Flimmel explained, "But judging from today's session, I don't think you will need them. But we don't want to jump to any immediate conclusions - as this is just the beginning." He grinned.

Harleen didn't like the sound of that for some reason. Yes, she was captivated by the Joker... but it didn't change the fact that he was completely unpredictable, and dangerous. Though... she still wouldn't give up this opportunity for anything. It was almost as if the Angel on her left shoulder screamed in warning, yet the spontaneous Devil on her right - urged such morbid curiosity.

"Thank you, Dr. Flimmel, I really appreciate that you care for the safety of your employees."

"I do, I certainly do, Harley." Harleen cringed when Dr. Flimmel referred to her as that. It was something completely different when the Joker said it, but Dr. Flimmel was becoming repulsive.

It was almost rude in Harleen's opinion. "It certainly has a ring to it. _Harley_." He continued, "I'll give the Clown that much credit!" He then chuckled to himself as he sat up, and started to stride toward where Harleen sat. Overrun by such discomfort, Harleen quickly stood up, and started to head for the door leading out of the somber office - and as she spun around to bid Dr. Flimmel a good evening, he was unsettling too close for comfort - so close that she could smell his coffee stained breath, with a hint of Brandy and cigarette smoke to make it that much more nauseating. "If you ever want to go to dinner," Dr. Flimmel said, as he rested a hand on her shoulder, and then slowly caressed her arm until he reached her elbow, "Just let me know, and I'd love to show you a good time." He almost sounded as cocky as mule in heat.

Taken aback by such behavior and harassment yet once again, Harleen stuttered, "N-no thank you, Doctor. Have a good evening." Trying not to make it so obviously noticeable - Harleen hastily stumbled out of his office. Even running at full speed wouldn't be fast enough to get her out of the proximity of this disrespectful man, let alone walking in heels. Suddenly, Dr. Flimmel called out, "Hey Harley! Don't hurt that son of bitch too much if you run into trouble! We need him well and healthy for this to go smoothly." Harleen nodded and then proceeded to speed walk all the way to the exit of the Arkham Asylum. So much for worrying about her safety.

* * *

 **10:06 PM**

Harleen sat upright in bed with the bright bedroom lights on, whilst having the television turned on for background noise. Not closely paying attention to what rubbish polluted the media, she silently took some notes about her session with Joker earlier that day.

Putting her pen and papers down on her lap, and taking a deep breath of still air - she pinched the bridge of her nose under her black-framed glasses, and squinted her eyes - as if trying to put the sleepiness at bay, that her body so desired. But her mind would not allow it. _'All work and no play, makes Harley a dull toy'_. Harleen chuckled out loud from her own joke. Technically, she was far overdue for a vacation. It's been about four years since she took a remarkable getaway. Remembering her amazing trip to England, she thought back to the one little conspicuous shop where she found one of her most prized possessions at. Harleen had spotted a single light brown teddy bear on a dusty shelf in the store. There were no others like it, and the shop owner claimed that it was apparently a mis-order in her stock. As Harleen examined the bear closer, there was a single moon embroidered on the side of the stuffed animal.

 _'There is a bear in the moon for anyone willing to see it.'_ That haunting, yet comforting voice echoed through Harleen's head.

Harleen, instantly curious - asked the shop owner, "Does this teddy bear have any kind of significance to anything? It's got a moon embroidered here on the side of it."

The small, dark-haired older woman smiled. "You picked up a special bear that wasn't even supposed to come to the shop." She explained, "As a Native American symbol, the bear is as free in spirit as the great moon, and grander than its mass. To match that magnitude is the quality of unpredictability in the bear. A massive animal who forages seemingly peacefully in the woods on berries and bush. But when provoked in certain ways, the ferocity expressed from the bear could elicit terror. A beautiful animal, with the ability to be dangerous."

Harleen wondered if that was what Joker meant that day... was he comparing her to this symbolism? He clearly had seen the bruises on her neck, hence knowing that she was abused... so was she capable of such violence to defend herself? If only she were willing to see it, and when provoked, anything was possible. Joker was insane. Insanely _intelligent_.

Shaking her head back to focus, Harleen combed back her long, silky blonde hair with her hand, and slowly rotated her body to the right. On her night stand, sat the teddy bear. She had to buy it. It was like it was there that day, waiting just for her.

Suddenly, she had a brilliant idea for tomorrows session with Joker. She would give him that bear as a gift. Maybe he might remember her then. Delighted by her plan, she was suddenly interrupted by a loud THUD outside of her sliding glass door.

Disturbed and slightly paranoid now, she jumped out of bed, and quickly turned out all of the lights and pushed the curtains aside to hopefully catch a glimpse of what made the noise.

"It was probably a bird." She said to herself. But at night? Then a parked unmarked black van caught Harleen's eye. It was literally stopped mid-street, directly under her apartment - with no lights on.

"Well, that's not conspicuous." She mumbled sarcastically.

As Harleen squinted hard against the darkness of the night, the van's headlights turned on, and then drove away.

Slightly startled, Harleen closed the curtains and reached for her lab coat, which was hung beside her front door. She fished out one of the devices that Dr. Flimmel gave to her earlier, and put the taser gun on her night stand.

Just in case.

* * *

 **Arkham Asylum**

 **12:57pm**

Walking towards the same session room from yesterday, Harleen couldn't shake the sensational feeling that she got when knowing that she would get to speak with Joker for another few hours once again.

She carried the teddy bear in her lab coat, along with the alarm and taser gun - hoping that she was only going to use one of those three items today.

Joker sat in the same spot as yesterday, but this time, looking a little more alive and anxious to start his session with Dr. Harleen Quinzel. With no one watching this session, and only two guards outside of the door, Harleen felt like this was on a personal level meeting... and she liked that.

Casually stepping through the door of the session room, the florescent lights caused Joker's skin to glow with a luminosity - making him look as if he were a godly-like prophet. This caused Harleen to admire the electrifying pulse that once again engulfed the room - as it did in yesterdays session. This time, she welcomed it.

Joker expressed his satisfactory with an ear stretching smile that captivated Harleen. As she sat down, his alluring blue eyes narrowed on her, just as intensely as yesterday. "Ah, Dr. Quin-zel. I live for these moments with you."

"I thought it was Harley Quinn?" Harleen chuckled.

"Yesssss, there's _my_ Harley Quinn." Jokers delighted grin was almost as if he were pleased with her response.

Fixated on the fact that he had said ' _MY_ Harley Quinn' - Harleen tried to hide the blush that filled her cheeks. She had hoped that her body wouldn't embarrass her again, but that was obviously a failure. She then started to reach for the teddy bear in her pocket.

Joker looked down with curiosity, "Ooohh, what do ya got?" He sounded exceptionally inquisitive.

"I got you a teddy bear!" Harleen wiggled the bear above the steel table and sounded like a young child in a toy store, with the way she squeaked out the words, 'teddy bear'.

Joker leaned over the table, dropping his jaw in admiration. "So thoughtful.' A low growl escaped his crimson lips, that sounded almost playful. "Bring it closer, beautiful."

Harleen thought against his request, but being in his straitjacket, and his ankles strapped to the already bolted down steel chair... what harm could it do?

She slowly got up and stood only feet from him. She outstretched her arm toward him, with the teddy bear in hand. He then closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, as if smelling the stuffed animal. "Is this what your apartment smells like? I like it." His devilish grin returned; beaming with such expression.

Yanking the bear backwards, Harleen looked baffled. How did he know that she had an apartment? She then thought of the black van outside of her place just last night. Could Joker somehow be spying on her? It wasn't impossible. He had his men everywhere in the world that would break a leg if the Joker barked the order for it. Which came to her next question... why is he still in Arkham? He could easily break out with the help of his loyal followers.

As if perceiving the barren look on Harleen's face, Joker became expressionless. "Is there something wrong, doll face?"

Without thinking, Harleen blurted, "Why are you still in here, Mister J? You could easily escape - are you looking for something? You seem to be stirring up the Asylum at odd hours of the night lately. I was thinking that you were just bored... but considering the recent pattern in play of your nightly actions, I assume that you must be looking for something. Maybe something here in Arkham? And given that you possibly cannot escape your cell on your own, you must have others on the inside as your eyes and ears. What is it that you're having your men look for, Mister J?"

Harleen quickly wished she could take back her question. Assuming out loud that the Joker was up to something was a dangerous game to play.

Joker sat back into his chair. Tilting his head ever so slightly upward, his deep green hair reflected off of the overhead lighting. The distinctive darkness around his eyes stared right into Harleen's dazed ones. Still standing beside Joker, Harleen didn't feel herself move even closer to him. She was now inches from touching him. She wanted to touch him.

"Come clo-ser." Joker coaxed. "I want to feel your body against mine." His whisper had a pull on her. Harleen was unfamiliar with this forbidden, yet intoxicating feeling. Without thinking, she moved even closer... so close, that her knee touched his. And in that instant, Joker hastily closed the distance between them, and rested his face - hovering right above her thigh, so that only his nose was barely touching her. He carefully and slowly inhaled as he moved upward toward her hips, and then stopped directly below her stomach.

Harleen gasped - but not out of fear, but out of excitement.

"You are sim-ply intoxicating _ggg_."

And with that, Harleen shook her head, as if to break the trance. She quickly stepped away from him and sat back down on the hard, cold steel chair.

Trying to gain what professionalism she had left, Harleen fiddled with her glasses on her face. She could feel that her palms were moist, and instantly retracted her hands under the table; hoping to hide the way her body was embarrassing her. Yet again.

Feeling flustered, she asked one of the first questions that she had written down on her paper, "What would the Joker do if there was no Batman?"

Joker flung his head back in his familiar menacing laughter, "HA - HA - HAAA!" His brilliant smile was so expressive, that it was almost animated.

Harleen couldn't help but to giggle with him, but quickly composed herself.

"Batboy makes my escapades a little more fu-n _nnn_ at times _ss_." Joker flashed his silver teeth and slightly swayed from side to side. Harleen noticed these small movements when Joker became a little enthusiastic.

"So you're saying that you _like_ him?"

"Now don't go that far, sweetheart! I'm only saying... that your job is only as _fun_ as ya make it." He twitched a smile at his own words.

"And what _is_ your job, Mister J?"

"Would you like me to show you?" He softly whispered, "I can accomplish _ma-ny_ things."

The thought of seeing this intelligent man in action; in his own element - was absolutely stimulating to Harleen. And simply what she was thinking, would get her fired immediately, or even worse...

Harleen grimaced at the negative thought of her possible consequences. Just then, the same loud BUZZ interrupted the stillness of the session room. Just like yesterday, the guard announced, "Ma'am, time is up."

Lingering for a short moment, Harleen started to gather her things, and stood up. "Thank you, Mister J. I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

"Ohhh, it was _MY_ pleasure, Harley." Jokers smile was indeed, playful this time. Harleen was already starting to distinguish between his different smiles, facial expressions, and body language.

As Harleen walked past Joker, he instantaneously leaned in her way; stopping her in her tracks - she gradually leaned over to hear what he had to say. He whispered, "I'll be watching." And he exhaled into her ear, emanating a small and playful purr - sending both chills and goosebumps down every inch of her body.

And with that, Harleen left the room.

What was happening to her? The closeness she was feeling. The pull, the electricity, the _power_ that Joker had over her... was she, falling for him? Or curing him? And what did he mean, _'I'll be watching'_?

 _SO_ many questions... and what Harleen didn't know - was the little time that she would have to ask them, and yet forever to get her answers.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**

 **So, I've decided to go on with a few more sessions with the Joker. The intensity needs to build even more. Also, get a peek into what the Joker is actually feeling and thinking!**

 **This chapter - is actually a short one, but it's an opening for more to happen.**

 **I hope you all enjoy!**

 **Reviews are always appreciated!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 6**

"Sooooo, how did this session go with _Joker_?" Angie said as she burst through Harleen's office door.

Startled, Harleen patted her chest and exhaled, "Knocking would be a fair warning of your arrival! You're going to give me a heart attack, Dr. Grace!"

"What did I tell you?! Call me _Angie_!" She chuckled as she sat before Harleen's desk.

"Well... _Angie_ ," Harleen shot her a playful look under her glasses, "It was very interesting. This man, _the_ Joker - he is not insane as everyone perceives him to be. Nor does he suffer from any mental illness."

Angie looked taken aback, as if Harleen just said something in a different language. Angie squinted, "How can you be so sure?"

Harleen giggled, "Well, I'm not. This is just my professional opinion and observation so far. He's not in any of the categories of Schizophrenia, Bipolar, Dissociation Disorder, or any other mental disorder - as he has _no_ abnormal social behavior, and he is fully aware of what is real. He does _NOT_ show any unclear or confused thinking, _no_ reduced social engagement, and certainly doesn't possess the lack of motivation. He has shown some symptoms of Psychopathy. But Psychopathy is a personality construct and not a diagnosis of a mental disorder. Psychopathy reflects interpersonal characteristics and behavior that are often rooted in a lack of empathy. Psychopathy tends to be used as a label for people we do not like, cannot understand, or construe as evil... In other words, I don't think Joker should have been admitted to Arkham."

"And you got all of that... from just _two_ sessions with him?"

"In just two sessions with this man, he's more sane than some who work here! In fact, I would label Joker as super sane."

"Wooooow, Harleen!" Angie looked as if Harleen had discovered the Holy Grail. "Have you told any of this to Flimmel? I'm sure that he would want to set up a press interview with you, as the media has been going nuts! Constantly harassing the Asylum's phone lines - asking what has come of the infamous _Joker_!"

Harleen cringed at the thought of going in front of possibly fifty or more television cameras, and prodded with questions that she probably wouldn't want to answer in the first place. "No, I haven't turned in any of my reports to Dr. Flimmel just yet. I'm still taking some notes... I even forgot to record today's session."

Harleen anxiously bit her bottom lip. _'It's okay,'_ She thought to herself, _'I'll just fill Dr. Flimmel in with a written report.'_

" _So_ , Harleen... do you get out much?"

Harleen slightly tilted her head to the side - looking at Angie, and flashed a confusing grin.

Realizing how awkward her question sounded, Angie quickly finished what she was getting at. "Oh! I mean, Do you go out at all? With friends? What I'm asking is... would you like to grab a drink tonight? Get away from work and all of these idiotic Doctors that act like they haven't seen an attractive woman in years!"

Harleen busted out laughing, clearly amused with Angie's last words. "Well, you're certainly right about the Doctors around here."

"Well?..."

"No, I don't usually go out. Never really had any interest."

"Well, that's because you haven't found the right _FUN_ person to go out with!"

Harleen raised an eyebrow, and continued to give Angie a stubborn and defiant expression.

"Oh, come on! I thought the Jester Kane would have been neat to check out. Everyone in Gotham talks about it! I just don't have anyone that I actually like to go with."

Harleen's eyes suddenly sparked with interest, "The Jester Kane? Well..." Harleen knew that the Jester Kane was one of the many clubs that belonged to Joker. Maybe, if she went, she could possibly find out some information about Joker. "Okay."

Angie clapped her hands in excitement, "I KNEW your curiosity would get the best of you."

"You are truly an evil woman." Harleen joked. "But... I do know that they don't let just anyone in. It's mostly guest listed... how are we sure to get in?"

"Harleen, we are females. With _boobs_." Angie sounded almost childish, but Harleen couldn't help but to giggle. "Just wear something sexy. We will have no problem getting in."

"You do realize, that this could be very dangerous, knowing that the media has already mentioned my name and labeled me as, _'The brave Doctor who is treating the Joker'_!"

"And yet, you are still smiling after saying that."

Angie was right. Harleen felt a sense of thrill - just knowing that she could step into a club that not only Joker owned, but also the fact that there were people who did business with him. Maybe, just maybe, she could coax a thing or two out of them. A stupid idea, a dangerous move, and an insane thing to do.

"I'll pick you up at 8 tonight." Angie jumped up with a little too much enthusiasm.

Harleen laughed as she handed Angie a small piece of paper, "Here's my address. I'll see you tonight at 8."

"And remember!" Angie added right before strolling out of Harleen's office door, "Something _sexy_!"

" _Something sexy_?! Did I hear _sexy_ in the office?" Dr. Channing's familiar and annoying voice echoed just behind Angie.

"Yeeeeah!" Angie expressed.

Harleen tried mouthing 'NO' in Angie's direction, but apparently did not see her desperate attempt.

"We're going out. Girls only. Sorry buddy." Angie tapped Dr. Channing's chest as she disappeared back to the Arkham lab.

Dr. Channing raised his eyebrows in disbelief, and walked in - whilst leaving the office door wide open, "Soooo, you will go out with crazy lady there, but not me? So, where are you going?"

"That, Doctor, is none of your business. Nor is it any of your concern. Just a dull night out with a co-worker." Harleen then continued to take her notes, while trying to ignore his bluntness.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but dressing _'sexy'_ to go some place is definitely not going to be a _'dull'_ night. Can I come? I'll be sure to make your night lively and not dull!"

"No."

"What? Are you a lesbian or something?"

Harleen over dramatically slammed her pen down, "THAT is absolutely rude! No I am not! And besides, that is not even an appropriate question to ask in the work place!"

"Well then, let's talk about it outside of the work place." Dr. Channing then leaned over, whilst extending his arms to the corners of the cold steel desk, putting both of his hands firmly down - as if to trap Harleen from going anywhere in protest. "You know, Harleen..."

"It's Doctor _Quin-zel_." She said firmly; pursing her lips.

"Harleen. or... should I call you _Harley_?"

Harleen's nostrils flared and her pupils dilated. Her furious expression wasn't hard to miss. And Dr. Channing certainly did not miss it.

"Ohhhh. I've hit a nerve, did I? You like the name that _freak_ gave you, eh? Well I'm pretty sure he doesn't know how to touch a woman like I do. I can make you scream with such pleasure, you would be _BEG-GING_ for more."

"What did you do? Get that line from the gay porn that you whack off to every night? Or from your _mother_?"

"HA!" Dr. Channing lifted and then slammed his hands down so hard, that it moved the desk a few inches. Harleen quickly stood up without making eye contact. She was clearly frightened.

"So now you have jokes? It's that damn Clown, isn't it? _ISN'T IT?!"_ As Dr. Channing's voice raised to that harsh level, Harleen jumped back against the wall and couldn't help the few tears that escaped her alarmed eyes. She quickly crossed her arms over her chest, as if to protect herself... she then thought of the Taser gun in her pocket...

Just as Dr. Channing's bitter voice bounced off of the walls, security started to walk past the entrance of Harleen's office - pushing a vertical table, with none other than the Joker securely strapped upon it. In his usual dark blue sweats, and off white straight jacket - he was bound at the ankles, thighs, chest, and a fabricated strap that covered the lower half of his face, so that he had limited head mobility. But he had just enough to turn his head ever so slightly to the side to view the scene that was occurring.

The guards stopped, and Dr. Channing briskly stepped back from Harleen's desk, and calmly stuffed both of his hands in his pockets - which made him look all that much more suspicious.

"Oh, look who it is!" Dr, Channing chuckled. "Taking this dog for a walk?"

"Just escorting patient 0801 to his cell." The guard replied. "Is everything okay here, Doctors?"

"Everything is just fine! Just talking about our hard work." Dr. Channing swayed from one foot to the other, an obvious sign of a liar. And the Joker noticed this.

Just then, Joker met Harleen's tear stained eyes. She quickly tried wiping her face of the wet, and ran to her office door - slamming it with such force, that it shook the hard concrete floor.

Dr. Channing just smirked. But that arrogant smirk soon turned into an empty expression. Joker's icy blue eyes had turned cold and vicious... and stared directly at Dr. Channing.

Dr. Channing couldn't help but to feel the stabbing wrath that emanated through Joker's eyes. He had to look away, but only to notice that Joker's straight jacket rapidly protruding up and down - as if he was hyperventilating.

Joker _burned_ inside. His desire to cause a slow inflicting pain to one, overwhelmed his body. Joker didn't know why he felt such anger after witnessing Harley in such a poor state. Maybe it was because this other man was patronizing her. Dominating her. Harley was _his_ to manipulate, not another mans.

As the guards wheeled Joker away, Joker kept his destructive eyes on Dr. Channing as far as his restraints would allow.

Realizing that he had actually broke a sweat with just standing there, Dr. Channing wiped his forehead, and chuckled to himself, "That freak will rot in his cell." Shaking his head, he proceeded down the hall.

Harleen, sat at her desk, wiping her face, and slicking back her hair into a ponytail. Finally composing herself, she gathered all of her paperwork in a file, dropped it in her file cabinet, and securely locked it. "I'm done for today." She said to herself. "It's time to get ready for the club tonight... and who knows... maybe have a little fun." She smiled to herself, as this comforted her slightly.

And with that, she grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

 _Fun_ would be an _understatement_ for Harleen tonight _._


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

 **5:45pm**

The sun shone brightly at this time of the day - emanating Harleen's apartment with a fun and warm light when all of her curtains were open. A spectacular view of the city of Gotham was absolutely breathtaking.

Standing before her surreal view, Harleen took a sip from her wine glass - enjoying the crisp taste of the red wine that she had just poured. She would certainly need a few drinks to calm her nerves for tonight. The last time she went out to enjoy the night life was about three years ago. Right before she started her job with Arkham. Since then, she's just been consumed in her work... and she enjoyed that. Harleen also didn't have many friends over the years, let alone currently. So it was logically a bad idea to go out in the streets of Gotham alone.

Without putting her drink down, she casually made her way to her double door closet - to put on the one thing that she was dreading the most... her 'little black dress'.

It was more than a 'little black dress' though - it was short, it was revealing; it was downright attention getting.

Dust seemed to float off of the dress as Harleen removed it from her closet. Still on the hanger, she shook it a little, whilst holding it back to get a good look at it once again. Taking in a deep breath, with hesitant eyes - Harleen finally put her wine glass aside on her dresser, and started to wiggle into the sleek black dress.

Hopping over to the full length mirror beside her closet, Harleen twisted and turned - examining how the dress tightly formed around her body. The dress accentuated her prominent curves, giving her the characteristics of a Greek Goddess. The shoulder straps flowed upward to form a silky choker collar that covered her delicate neck. The front of the dress was open, so that the stretchy black material curved around the outside of her chest, and then proceeded to slit all the way down, to just above her navel; exposing a significant amount of cleavage and stomach. The end of the stimulating dress stopped just below her bottom - so Harleen made a mental note to not bend over... or she will reveal a lot more than she bargained for. Connected to the bottom right of the dress, was a fishnet triangular chain that clipped around her thigh - giving the most exotic touch to the entire outfit.

Harleen just stood there, already starting to have second thoughts about going out. She had no other 'outing' clothing, as she had gotten rid of that wardrobe a while ago. She had only kept this dress, because it was her favorite at the time.

Taking in a deep SIGH, Harleen turned to glance at a pair of jeans that also hung in her vast closet. "Angie would throw a _fit_ if I decided to wear jeans to a club." Harleen complained to herself.

Finally accepting her fate, Harleen let down her hair from her ponytail. Her waist length brilliant blonde hair had a slight wave to it from being tied up. Harleen then made her way to her bathroom, pulling open a drawer, and picking out her makeup.

Her smokey black eye shadow had made her stunning blue eyes pop with such vibrancy, that Harleen looked almost inhuman. And with a quick slap of lip gloss and black leather knee-high heeled boots to complete the look - her nerves started to flare.

Already on her third glass of wine, the tension was slowly starting to diminish... and so was the time. Angie should be there at any minute.

 _ **KNOCK KNOCK!**_

Harleen jumped at the loud knocking on her apartment door. With one last check of herself in the mirror, whilst smoothing her dress down - satisfied, she trotted to the door.

Squinting through the peep hole, confirming that it was Angie - as seeing her pixie cut brown hair was now spiked upward, Harleen swung open the door.

"Woo!" Angie cried out, "Are you ready to-" Before she could finish her sentence, Angie dropped her eyes to Harleen's black leather boots; all the way up to the attention stealing dress. "W-O-W." Angie mouthed. "Okay, when I said to dress sexy, I didn't think you would go all out! You look _AMAZING_ , Harleen! Like, wow! I'm speechless! And seeing you without your glasses! You're a super model! Why didn't you become a super model? I would! Just like, you can do-"

"Angie!" Harleen giggled, "Thank you. But this is the only dress that I own that would suffice. Or... I would absolutely be wearing jeans and a blouse!"

Angie smiled, "Woman, you are going to be a heart breaker tonight."

"You're a doll yourself!"

Angie slapped her hands on her hips and twirled around to show off her knee length maroon dress and black heels. "I try!"

"So are we taking a taxi?" Harleen asked - as she already had a few glasses of wine, and she only assumed Angie would be the drinking type.

"Absolutely! I called one before I came up - our carriage is already waiting for us. So come on! Let's go have some fun!"

* * *

As they pulled up to the club, the Jester Kane - Harleen stared through the cab window at the club display. It was almost discreet, except for the fact that the overhang entrance presented a sinister looking purple and green colored Jester to welcome its guests. Harleen lost count of the security that stood at the doors of the place - surveying the long stretched line of people, obviously trying to get in.

The bass of the music could be heard from even the street, and as Harleen stepped out of the cab, it seemed to vibrate the concrete beneath her boots as well.

Harleen's nerves started to come back as her mind began to slowly process the situation, and what she was actually doing. _'This is crazy.'_ She thought to herself. But it was as if her consciousness had a mind of its own - whilst flashing a brilliant image of Joker before her, as if reminding her why she was doing something completely out of her element. That beautiful and fascinating man - that Harleen wished she could see in his own environment... well, here was her chance! This was the closest that she was going to get to experience his world. It was no secret that Joker would spend his time checking into his clubs - even doing transactions, and business deals within these public places.

Deeply inhaling Gotham's chilly air, Harleen gained the boldness, and started to walk toward the long line of awaiting people in front of the Jester Kane - with Angie by her side.

As the both of them were to make their way to the back of the line, unexpectedly - the door man, a big burly and bearded hulk of something you did not want to mess with, suddenly blocked Harleen's and Angie's way.

The fear flooded through Harleen's eyes; instantly regretting this night.

"Excuse me, Miss?" The Door Man politely engaged.

"Y-yes?" Harleen stuttered - but then refused to show any sign of instability and raised her head up, arched her back, and stood up straight - trying to look as in control as she possibly could portray.

"You're on the list. You don't have to wait in that line."

Angie and Harleen both exchanged baffled glances at each other when Harleen replied, "Are you sure? My name is Har-"

The door man raised his hand to stop Harleen mid-sentence, "I know who you are."

Harleen rapidly blinked her eyes, as if that would clear her mind and give her answers, "Oookay... but I'm with her." Harleen nudged Angie.

"Right this way, ladies." The Door Man extended his arm out; gesturing towards the entrance of the Jester Kane, while another security guard held the door open for the both of them.

Without another single word, Harleen and Angie took the invitation and stepped into the club.

The spacious building had a faint fluorescent glow to illuminate your way; it was somewhat hard to distinguish individual people on the packed dance floor, with the white lights dancing upon their faces as the only way to tell any of them apart. The music blared the hearing of anyone who wasn't used to such an environment.

Harleen slightly tilted her head back to take in the vast openness of the magnificent structure, only to see the balcony of the second floor. Surrounding the dance floor - had numerous tables, chairs, and also black curtain enclosed booths.

Security stood at every entrance, exit and corner of this place. Joker had this club very well secured - nothing troublesome would get by without dire consequences. Though it seemed like every guard posted, had their eyes on... _Harleen_.

"Hey! So, what just happened? How did we get in?!" Angie tried raising her voice above the music, whilst nudging Harleen.

Harleen shook her head in disbelief, "I have _no_ idea. Apparently I was on the list? I don't know how, nor why! I'm already starting to regret this." Harleen still kept her eyes on the darkly dressed security guards, as they seemed to be watching back just as intently.

"You just need a drink! Come on! This place is amazing!" Angie grabbed Harleen by the arm and lead the both of them to the bar counter. "Two Vodka cran's, please." Angie ordered.

Harleen was still perplexed on how they got inside. _'How was I on the list? Why is security staring at her? Did Joker really have insiders working at the Asylum? Will he now know that she was here?'_ Harleen's mind was spinning out of control, and she did not want to lose control! She needed to get her senses straight, relax, and take authority.

"Here ya go!" Angie handed Harleen a drink, as she took a sip from the straw.

"Oh, god! What is this?" Harleen's face twisted with disgust as she examined the drink.

"It's a Vodka cra-"

But before Angie could finish, Harleen took the straw out, tossed it onto the bar counter, and lifted the glass straight up in the air - and within seconds, the drink was gone.

"This is going to be a good night, isn't it?" Angie's smile seemed to beam through the faintly lit room.

"It already is." Harleen smiled. "Another." Harleen sat the empty glass on the bar counter top.

Angie handed Harleen another red drink, "Next round is on you, lady!" she joked.

Already half way sucking down her second drink, Harleen began to scan the room for her first victim. She would try her best to flirt with someone - someone who worked for Joker, so that they might spill some information. Any information that could possibly get her to know Joker more personally - something she could possibly use in her sessions with him. What he did, what business he conducted, how did he handle such contracts, _IF_ he conducted contracts, _if he liked puppies_! Harleen would take any kind of information at this point.

Finding a victim wouldn't be very hard though, as Harleen noticed that every male within a fifty yard radius was either glancing her way, or obnoxiously ogling at her. But Harleen needed someone who worked for Joker; not these immature young males that were here to brag and flash their money around to desperate gold digging females. Harleen decided that she would have no issue telling one of these guys to bugger off.

As if fate were trying to test her, a young man in a sleek gray suit, caught eyes with Harleen. Harleen quickly looked away - trying to give the simple signal that she was not interested. The young man stood against the other bar counter from across the busy dance floor.

"Looks like you have the whole club interested in you! You super star!" Angie playfully giggled to Harleen.

"That doesn't comfort my nerves one bit." Harleen frowned.

"Especially that handsome hunk across the way. You see him just eyeing you? In the gray suit over there!"

"Yeah, I noticed, but I'm not interested."

"Well," Angie chuckled as she started to head for the dance floor, "You can tell him _yourself_."

Harleen stole a glance in the direction of the young man, as he was already weeding in and out of the dance floor; making his way towards her. She could barely make out his face, only getting quick glances at him when the club lights decided to shine his way - which gave him an oddly ghostly appearance.

Harleen turned her back to him, and hovered over her half finished drink. She began to sip from her glass when the young man propped himself directly next to Harleen, while facing her.

"Hello there, Miss!" He shouted. He wasn't unattractive. His dark gray suit gave him a superior touch, his straight brown hair flowed freely forward onto his forehead, while his dark brown eyes hinted of arrogance. Even with her heeled boots on, this young man met her eyes with his. "My name is, Jett - but you can call me whatever you want, gorgeous!"

Harleen, clearly un-amused, slightly leaned over into the bar counter top to rest her elbows on the cold surface, only to finish her much needed alcoholic drink. Harleen lifted her index finger to indicate another drink.

"Oh, I've got this." Jett said, as he handed the bartender money.

"No, really." Harleen interrupted, "I'm not interested, but thank you."

"But, baby! You haven't even let me try!"

"I don't _want_ you to try." Harleen gritted her teeth.

"Can I _show_ you how I would try?" Jett's ego-statistical smile burned through Harleen's patience.

"You are tiresomely predictable. I said, no thank you."

"Ooohh feisty, I _like_ it!" Jett then laid his hand on Harleen's mid back, as if to caress her spine - in an attempt to run his greedy hand to her bottom.

Harleen quickly stood up straight; smacking Jett's hand away and off of her. "Do _not_ touch me again." She warned. Harleen tried to sound as intimidating as possible, but to no avail, Jett only seemed more turned on.

Jett laughed, "I've delt with your type before. You just need a little _breaking in_."

Just as this obnoxious man went to move even closer into Harleen, four arms swifty encased over Jett's chest and abdomen. As if out of thin air, two security guards forcefully grabbed Jett, and tossed him aside with such force, that Jett lost his balance and rolled onto a nearby table - knocking over chairs and drink glasses to the floor. Other club guests quickly trotted out of the way of the scene, and then continued to sip their drinks and go on about what they were doing - as if nothing were happening.

Harleen gasped, as she wasn't expecting such a surprise. Angie quickly joined Harleen's side as Jett was being escorted out of the Jester Kane.

Enlightened with entertainment, Angie laughed and taunted in the direction of Jett, "Oooohh the walk of _shame_!" She clapped her hands, as if it were a free show for her own amusement. "Well, Harleen, I would say, that you are being watched."

Shaking her head from what had just happened, Harleen looked over to Angie, "What do you mean?"

"Well," Angie continued, "Think about it. We got into the Jester Kane before any rich folk in line that has been probably been waiting a few hours already, every security guard in this entire building is staring at you, and THEN - a random douche bag hits on you, only to end up kicked out. Harleen..." Angie's voice then took a more serious tone, "I would be very careful. I think these guards recognize who you are, and are taking orders from..." Angie stopped to think about what she was actually insinuating.

"Angie! Are you trying to tell me that you truly think that Joker has had recent contact with all of his men?"

"I am saying that Joker could even be in contact with his men right _now_."

"You do realize what you're saying, right?"

"I do... and that actually makes _me_ a little nervous..." Angie gently patted Harleen's arm, "But don't worry too much! You're like... the most protected wonderful piece of booty in this place!"

Harleen giggled, "Why thank you for referring to me as a wonderful piece of booty."

"My pleasure!" Angie grinned, "Okay, I _neeeeed_ to dance! I'll be just over here!"

Harleen smiled as Angie made her way to the overly crowded dance floor. The rhythmic flow of human bodies were almost hypnotizing, and was it almost a tempting idea to join in, to escape her paranoid thoughts.

Just then, a man caught Harleen's eye. He walked out of a back door, clearly meant for authorized personnel only. He was a little older, decent looking, a full head of clean cut reddish hair, built, a maintained beard, and a sleek black suit apparel. This mysterious man shook hands with two of the guards that were posted at the door where he had just exited from.

 _'That's it.'_ Harleen thought to herself. _'He must work here, so he might have some knowledge of Joker. Only one way to find out.'_

To Harleen's advantage, the man staggered to the bar beside her.

Gaining what little courage she had, Harleen ran her fingers through her long wavy blonde hair, as it glowed under the vibrant black lights. Just that simple gesture had caught the attention of every male radar... especially the man beside her, whom she was counting on.

He turned to Harleen's way, and smiled like he hadn't seen a woman in years, "Well now," he continued, "You are the fine definition of beauty!"

The smell of booze ricocheted off of him, giving himself away to having a little too much to drink. "I've not seen you in here before, what's your name, gorgeous?" He shuffled even closer to Harleen; the stench of his breath confirmed his over drinking.

"Har-" Harleen cleared her throat. "Hailey. Hailey Rhode." She lied.

"Hailey. Would you like to get acquainted?"

This man really gave Harleen the creeps, but she went with it. "Well, what do I call you?"

"Aaron Snowden. But most refer to me as Snow. And let me tell you... I would _DIE_ for you, beautiful! You look amazing."

"A pleasure to meet you, Snow." Harleen tried dazzling Snow with her smile. It seemed to be working. "So, do you work here?"

"Ha! You sure like to move quickly! I like that. You must like a man to take charge, yeah? Yes, I do work here."

Attempting to ignore his crude comments, Harleen forced an over exaggerated gasp, "So, you work for _the_ Joker? How does that work?"

Snow squinted his dark eyes at Harleen, "You're not a cop or anything, are you? Nahhhh, they wouldn't have let you in to this place, let alone a cop as fucking hot as you. Doesn't exist." Snow laughed to himself as if he were the comedian of the year. "Your dark curiosity will get you in trouble, little girl." Snow protested.

"I've had my share of trouble." Harleen urged.

"Oh, I'm sure you _have_!" Snow snickered; winking at Harleen - as she strained an artificial smile. "Boss is a simple yet complicated guy - which makes it that much more fun to him. All of these other bastards would give a damn limb for Boss. Hell, they would give their life! I just have limited patience for his games." Snow tilted a shot glass to his lips and swallowed the dark liquid. "But... the money is _gooood_."

"Sounds to me like you should have a change in career."

"Ah, stop talking, and why don't you dance for me."

Harleen couldn't contain the astounded look that spread across her face.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Sit on _this_ lap and _dance_!"

"Excuse me sir, but you've got my intentions wrong."

"Oh, I think I've got your intentions _just right_." Snow sneered as he reached over, slid his hand under Harleen's neck, and grabbed a fist full of her hair. A sharp pain erupted down Harleen's neck as Snow yanked her face to face his. "Purposely waving that hair of yours, smiling for the attention, and pursing those luscious lips like you want to suck my dick."

At the corner of Harleen's eye, she could see the security about to move into her escalated situation, but just then - a sudden ruckus spiked the attention of everyone nearby. Snow released his firm grip from Harleen's hair. She quickly rubbed the back of her neck to ease the strain that she now felt from Snow's careless tug. And as if it were louder than the already ear piercing music, Harleen could clearly hear her name being called, "HARLEEN! _Harleen Quinzel_! Doctor! DOCTOR! Over here! Do you have a minute?"

Harleen sharply turned to the sound of her name, only to realize a group of people trying to force their way into the Jester Kane.

Harleen heaved out a harsh breath, only to notice that these individuals stirring up the ruckus and calling her name, had held cameras and microphones. Angie suddenly grabbed Harleen's arm, and seemed just as out of breath as her, "Harleen! It's the media! Apparently they got an insider on where you were!"

When Harleen turned to look at Angie - she then noticed Snow staring straight at her with his mouth open in shock. "Har-Harleen?" He whispered to himself. And with that, Snow rapidly spun around and sprinted away from Harleen; bumping into every person that he passed by.

Harleen was perplexed by Snow's sudden change in disposition. _'Why was he so afraid of me?'_ she thought.

"HARLEEN QUINZEL! Do you have a minute?!" The news reporter man yelled from the entrance of the club. Security was already pushing the group of reporters back outside.

"Time to go, since those assholes so kindly gave your name away." Angie spat.

Harleen followed close behind Angie to the exit, hoping that the media group did not see them. They both jogged to the street outside, thankfully waving a taxi down and jumping inside of the vehicle.

"WOW! What a NIGHT!" Angie exclaimed.

"That was certainly not what I was expecting! Here I am trying to get away from the harassment at work, only to find it elsewhere. And in different forms, mind you!"

"Beauty is a curse." Angie stated. "Hey, I got a guy tonight that reached around and grabbed my ass! I think that's the closest to good sex that I'll get for now!"

The both of them exchanged amused laughs throughout the ride.

* * *

As the cab pulled up the Harleen's apartment, she bid Angie a good night, and started up the stairs to her place.

"Finally!" Harleen announced aloud, "Home at last!"

Harleen turned on the television, and then proceed to the bathroom where she stripped of her restricting black dress and welcomed a warm shower. Harleen washed the Jester Kane essence from her delicate skin... she especially scrubbed the back of her neck, as if she would wash away the memory of Snow handling her in such a volatile way.

Dried, and dressed in white sweat pants and a tank top - Harleen was finally comfortable and refreshed.

Suddenly, Harleen noticed that the news was on the television, only to recognize a face that was plastered on the screen. It was Aaron Snowden. Harleen turned up the volume.

 ** _"Forty-four year old Aaron Drake Snowden was found shot dead in an alley way off of 1st and Tanson Street just minutes ago. Police have no current leads as to what may have happened, but are investigating further into tonight's incident."_**

Harleen instinctively cupped her hand over her mouth in disbelief. She was JUST talking to that man. _'What happened?'_ she thought. Harleen then thought back to how the security had handled the situation with Jett, and then how Snow looked as if he had seen a ghost when he came to realize who she really was. _'Was Joker really capable of watching her every move?'_ Harleen's mind was running so fast through so many scenarios, that she couldn't even keep up with her own thought process.

"Well," Harleen snickered out loud - as if she were speaking to the television, "At least you got one thing right, Snow... you did _die_ for me. Loser." She knew it was harsh, but she didn't care. If only every man that harassed her got what they deserved.

Tomorrow, Harleen had another session with Joker. This should be a very interesting session, as she planned on using the private therapy room, and maybe... just maybe... she might get somewhere with him this time.

* * *

 **Arkham Asylum**

 **3:45am**

Joker sat quietly in his cell tonight. Tightly secured to the usual padded vertical steel table, whilst his straitjacket in place - along with the restraints across his well defined body - he sat motionless.

"Boss!" A soft whisper echoed through the Joker's cell.

Joker swayed his head hastily towards his cell door, emanating a low rumble as he exhaled.

An Arkaham guard pressed his face against the small window of Joker's cell and whispered, "Hey Boss. She's back at her place and Snow was taken care of."

"Oh!" Joker said with such enthusiasm, "You're so _go-od_!"

The fake guard added, "And we still haven't found it, Boss. But we're still looking."

With no response, the fake Arkham guard left to attend to his rounds.

Joker smiled to himself. When he had heard of Harley attending one of his clubs, he was astounded. He had thought she wouldn't go that far, but apparently - she's shown how willingly she really is. And this could prove useful to him. Though, a twisting fascination formed inside of him when he came abuttingly close to Harley's presence. Joker didn't know why he felt the need to continuously keep a watchful eye on her. A waste of resources, he thought. But the contagious feeling that possessed him, overwhelmed his desire to know even more about this provocative woman. Joker figured that Harley was just an existing pawn in one of his games. But he couldn't hide the fact that he obsessed over every move that she made.

Joker once had a thousand desires... but in just one current desire, all else faded away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:**

 **Thank you so much for all of the favorites, follows, and reviews! The reviews really make my day! I always enjoy reading them, and I want to thank you so much for the positive feedback that I have been receiving.**

 **So, this chapter I needed to get going, as this is the first step into something exceptionally exciting that is about to happen. Things will be explained, events will be revealed!**

 **"I can't wait to show you my _TOYS_!"**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 8**

The unfamiliar feeling of being mildly hung over, invaded Harleen's body the next morning. Harleen leaned back in the tanned cushioned leather seats of her Mercedes. The exterior was a smooth and glossy black that bounced off any ounce of light - back into any on goers eye. The four door sedan gave Harleen enough room to slightly lean her seat back and somewhat relax before she arrived for work.

This morning was dark. The sky was overcast with sooty clouds that poured down buckets of rain, as if the earth were trying to quench a dire thirst. The heavy raindrops hit Harleen's windshield, sounding as if World War III had erupted. But as oddly as many would think, Harleen found comfort on these clouded and rainy days. She could think better, and the different fragrances of wet concrete - to saturated household lawns opened up her senses more prominent than any dry day ever would. Harleen was looking forward to today. Thinking back on the past twenty four hours - on what she had did, and where she had gone – gave her a little bit more enthusiasm, only to see if Joker did know of her actions and whereabouts. That would certainly confirm that she was in fact, being watched… by the Joker. Harleen did not know if that was exciting, frightening, or flattering… or possibly all of the above.

As Harleen passed through the tall black and endless security gates to simply enter the premises of the Arkham Asylum, she glided her car into her usual parking space just before the massive and almost ancient-looking building structure.

Harleen let the cool rain douse through her blonde hair, which was loosely tied back in a low ponytail this morning. Possibly it being a darker day – but Harleen's hair was a tad darker in appearance than usual.

As her black heels clicked beneath her, whilst entering the Arkham Asylum - Harleen was abruptly stopped in her tracks, before she could run head first into Dr. Flimmel.

"Ah, Dr. Quinzel! Good morning!" Dr. Flimmel shined.

Taken aback with Dr. Flimmel's politeness, Harleen curled her lip - looking puzzled.

"I'd like you to meet my _wife_." Dr. Flimmel gestured to the woman in front of him.

"You can call me, Veronica. And it's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Quinzel. You're almost as popular as Bruce Wayne right here in Gotham City right now!" Veronica chuckled, "Well, _almost_." Veronica sneered, her tone dripped with sarcasm. "Seeing that you're the _amazing_ Doctor whom is making a wild breakthrough with the _infamous Joker_!" Veronica exclaimed, while waving her hands in the air in an over exaggerated animated way, that had Harleen take a step back before Veronica unintentionally slapped her.

Veronica was slightly taller than Harleen, slim build, shoulder length dark hair, older, but clearly has been under the knife a few too many times.

Harleen extended her hand out in a friendly manner, and shook Veronica's.

"Ow!" Veronica reacted, and pulled her hand back, "You've got quite the grip, Doctor! Easy now! I know you must be excited to meet the head Director's wife!" Veronica laughed to herself, with Dr. Flimmel – noticeably forcing his laugh to impress his wife.

There was something Harleen did not like about Veronica… _'But this woman married Flimmel.'_ Harleen thought, as she answered her own question, _'Enough said.'_

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Veronica." Harleen gave her best fabricated smile.

"You are very pretty, Dr. Quinzel! I am very surprised that my husband has kept his control with you working here!"

Harleen could sense a tad bit of threat laced in Veronica's tone. "I've got work to do," Harleen smiled yet again, "It was great meeting you, Veronica. And Doctor." Harleen quickly acknowledged Dr. Flimmel with a slight head nod, and quickly made her way to her office.

Upon entering her office, Harleen surprisingly noticed a big red vase that was full of roses, that sat at the edge of her steel desk.

Squinting her eyes in discomfort, Harleen cautiously approached the vase on her desk. Reaching for the small card that was shoved into the roses, the card read:

 ** _'I am very sorry. Let me make it up to you with dinner. – C'_**

 _'Dr. Channing.'_ Harleen thought to herself.

Suddenly, anger flared through Harleen's already palpitated heart beat, causing a burning sensation that ruptured her skin. Harleen was at her breaking point. And with such force, Harleen leaned over her desk, extended her right arm out before the tall red vase, and slammed it across her office - where it hit the wall and shattered into a thousand glass shards.

The rain beat heavy on the roof of the Asylum, and thankfully drowned out the ear piercing sound of breaking glass.

Taking a deep and calming breath, Harleen looked down at her arm, only to notice bright crimson blood spilling through her white lab coat. Realizing that the vase had actually partly shattered upon impact against Harleen's arm, she gently took off her blood stained coat and began to look around for something to stop the bleeding.

Finding some gauze and surgical tape in a first aid kit that she had kept buried in one of her many file cabinets that took up half of her small and dainty office, Harleen sat at her desk and tried to wrap her injury.

"Oh, my God! What _happened_ , Harleen?!" Angie slowly walked through Harleen's office door with a horrified look on her face. Angie examined the broken glass and the roses that littered the office floor - then focused on Harleen's arm. "What happened? How did you do that?" Angie quickly brought a chair next to Harleen and began wrapping her cut for her.

Harleen smiled at Angie, "Thank you."

"Seriously," Angie continued, "What happened?"

"Oh, ya know, the two Doctors that are going to be the death of me. Flimmel and Channing. And Channing just won't _quit_!" Harleen angrily slapped her free hand against her steel desk, causing a stinging sensation to flare all the way up her arm. Harleen just shook it off, as she was too agitated to even respond to any physical pain.

"I take it those roses are from Channing? Woman, you didn't have to go ape shit on them."

"You don't know the half of it, Angie!" Harleen suddenly lost control of her mouth, "The guy forces himself upon me! I've been sexually harassed countless times, and I'm just _sick_ of it!"

"Harleen," Angie whispered, "You really need to file a report. Like, yesterday."

"I know. I knoooow. Ugh! But… I don't want my job affected in any way right now. I mean, you've seen how far I'm coming along with the Joker! I can't risk being transferred, or anything of the sort."

"It doesn't matter! Look at where this is taking you! Maybe you should step away from this case for a little bit to clear your head, Harleen."

As Angie finished wrapping up Harleen's arm, she slowly moved back and away from Angie. She didn't fully realize, but Harleen spat a very leery glare towards Angie. "I thought you understood how much this case means to me, Angie."

"I do! But you really shouldn't take the harassment!"

"Dr. Grace," Harleen calmly voiced, as she blankly stared straight at the office door, as if to acknowledge Angie's need to exit, "I think you should leave, as I do have a session with the Joker in a few hours. I have a lot of work to do."

Angie pursed her lips, "If you _do_ need anything, you know where to find me."

Harleen then didn't make eye contact, as she listened to Angie leave her office.

Alone once again, Harleen knew that Angie was right… but so was she. Harleen didn't want to risk her job. Not now. And besides, Harleen had already decided that she was going to leave Arkham after this case. Possibly transfer elsewhere, as she could easily get a promotion at another facility. But depending on how long she took with the Joker, and what would happen to the Joker after she makes her break through with him - and she will - Harleen would follow. She was absolutely sure of that.

* * *

Ready for her session with Joker, Harleen gathered her notepad, stun gun, and alarm box. She put on a fresh white Doctor's coat, being sure to ease it over her now sore wound on her lower right forearm. Now that she was more focused, and calmed her nerves - Harleen could now feel the full effect of what damage the glass had endured to her skin.

Harleen's heels clicked in sync with the still heavy rain, beating on the rooftops. The wind was now whipping the wet weather outside, giving it that much more of a racket throughout the hallways.

Abruptly turning a corner, Dr. Flimmel appeared - blocking Harleen's way. His face had quite the serious look, which was fairly odd for Dr. Flimmel.

Dr. Flimmel met Harleen's eyes, "So it seems that your file is missing, Doctor."

Not what she was expecting to come out of Dr. Flimmel's mouth, Harleen fluttered her eyes in confusion, "Uh, w-what? I'm sorry, Sir. A file?"

"It appears as if someone had broken into my office and had stolen your personal employee file. Maybe it was misplaced, I don't know. But my file cabinets where open and definitely tampered with. I just thought that you should know, as everything else was in place, except for _your_ information. But maybe it'll turn up from a simple explanation."

"Well that is certainly not comforting." Harleen's eyes were unintentionally wide and full of concern. It wasn't hard to tell, that this truly disturbed her.

"Don't let it bother you, Harleen. We have it covered." Dr. Flimmel started to explain, "There's security all around here to ensure a proper and safe working environment."

"Doctor, no offense, but you have lost some of those men due to outbursts of rage from certain patients." Harleen expressed, fully aware of her unsteady concern that filled her voice, "And quite honestly, I don't think you can trust these guards to follow protocol when asked to even do the simplest of duties. I've seen it! And if someone has stolen my personal file, what is stopping them from coming to my residence?!"

"I do agree, that maybe we should bring in more adaptable and qualified characters. But I assure you, there is nothing too critical to worry about. And if someone were crazy enough to actually stalk you - the Gotham police are always reliable. Now," Dr. Flimmel clapped his hands, "I'll let you carry on with your session. Make everyone proud!"

Dr. Flimmel left Harleen looking as if she were a deer that had _already_ been hit by the incoming blinding headlights. ' _Could it be Joker? But how?'_ Harleen thought, ' _I mean, I had my theories of Joker being able to get out of his cell, but that wouldn't make any sense, nor plausible. What is going on here?'_ Harleen's thoughts started to spin out of control. Ever since Joker had entered Harleen's life once again, it seemed like her world was changing. For the better, or for worse…. Was for her to find out.

Slowing her pace down as she neared the private therapy room 248, Harleen's nerves began to ignite, as she glanced at the single guard that already stood before the closed door – indicating that Joker was already inside… waiting for her.

' _Why do I always feel this way right before I see him?'_ Harleen thought to herself. It was a feeling that she has never felt before, and she couldn't quite pinpoint exactly what it was. Was it nervousness? Fear? Paranoia? Fascination? Or all of those? It was difficult to tell.

Inhaling deeply, Harleen stepped up to the guard - and flashed her credentials, granting her entry into room 248.

With the door only having a small window, it unlocked with the familiar loud BUZZ. Harleen slowly stepped inside. Unlike the main session room that she had been using, room 248 had only a faint lighting that illuminated a few feet in front of you. The room had book shelves that were occupied by medical journals. A medium sized square window was barricaded with thin steel bars, but allowed one to see the drenched parking lot, and then beyond that – a small forest of trees, where the faint glow of the city of Gotham resided after the secluded area of wilderness.

Just across the modest room, a long and stretched out therapy chair sat against the wall. And sitting upright, against the cushioned chair, was Joker.

Joker's pale complexion glowed against the dimly lit room. His brilliant blue eyes, fixated on Harleen, as she met his still gaze. Once again, Harleen lost her breath at the sight of this malevolent, yet alluring man.

Joker's appealing eyes danced wildly as he took in the sight of Harleen. "Ah, Doctor, I've been waiting for you." Joker cooed.

Joker had a little more freedom this time, as his straitjacket was taken off, but replaced with white Velcro wrist straps that could only be opened with a proper key. These straps gave him limited leverage, as they were fastened to the bolted down therapy chair. His ankles were bound in the same fashion - so he could sit up, sit down, stand with little room to walk, and move his arms freely.

"Hello, Mister J. How are you today?" Harleen asked as she sat in the chair that lingered in front of where Joker rested.

"I am _ex-ceptionally_ delighted to see you, _Harley_. How did I get _so_ lucky to have you as my Doctor?" Joker flashed his silver smile. His eyes creased, showing that his wicked smile was truly genuine.

"Well, I don't know, Mister J. I feel lucky to have these sessions with you myself." Harleen openly admitted.

"You see," Joker began as he pushed his jaw to the side, while whipping his head toward Harleen, and then swung his lower half of his body in her direction – causing him to sit straight up; facing her. "That is what I like about you. You don't take things for granted."

Harleen could now see Joker with a little more clarity since he sat up, and he gradually inched closer to her. His dark blue long-sleeved shirt fit slightly snug. Snug enough to make out his well defined upper body, and with no doubt, had some exceedingly good strength behind it. Joker's matching dark blue sweats with the lime green words, "ARKHAM" down the leg, ensured that he was properly notable as a patient. Not that Joker was hard to distinguish from others.

Joker lowered his head, casting an eager expression Harleen's way that instantly captivated her. "Did you _enjoy_ my club?"

Joker's words broke Harleen's trance. "Excuse me?!"

"Did. You. Enjoy my club, _Doc-tor_?" Joker didn't like to repeat himself, and he made sure to extend every syllable as he spoke; without breaking his eye contact.

"H-how did you know?"

Joker glided his hand across his face and twirled his fingers in an unknown rhythm, "Maybe," he started, as he swayed slightly from left to right, and then promptly raised his index finger in front of his chin, "you love mysteries _so_ much, that you became one."

Harleen tilted her head to the side, as if to absorb Joker's words to make sense of them.

"Tell me, _Harley_ ," Joker continued as he lifted his head to level with Harleen's, "Do you like _pain_?" Joker protruded his chin out, and clenched his square jawline as Harleen stared at him in bewilderment. "Or are you just used to such _negligence_?"

Trying to figure out what Joker meant, a low rumbling growl escaped his teeth as his piercing blue eyes fixated downward.

Harleen followed Joker's eyes, only to realize that the new white coat that she had just put on moments ago, was now painted with spots of red on her right arm.

"God damnit!" Harleen didn't mean to use such language around her patients, but she was thoroughly embarrassed this time. She stood up and took the jacket off, crunching it into a ball – and using it to gently dab her arm. The bandage was doing its job, but apparently the blood flow was just enough to steep through parts of the gauze.

With the best that she could do, with what she had at the moment - Harleen casually walked back to her seat.

Joker hadn't moved an inch, but his face was corrupted in what Harleen thought looked destructive.

Joker's breathing increased in pace, and he felt the same burning sensation run through his veins once again. He didn't know why he felt such _rage..._ but finding a way to release it - was the harder part.

Examining Joker's sudden change in disposition, Harleen didn't want to lose control of the situation, "I bumped into a sharp corner." She fibbed. _Was she really giving Joker an excuse for her own personal issue?_ Harleen thought to herself.

"You're a bad liar, Doctor." Joker could feel his inhuman glare that seemed to emanate the room. Frustration flooded through Jokers head, and he didn't understand why he felt such distress towards the protection for this woman. It was an alienating sensation to him, and that could prove to be entirely dangerous and unpredictable.

Harleen studied Joker's change in expressions. He was so animated, that she felt that she could read him easily. She could clearly see that Joker was rattled by something. Was it because of _her_? Harleen thought. Or was it because of her injury? Was Joker truly capable of _caring_?

Not wanting anything to escalate any more than it did, Harleen pulled out a stack of cards that resided in the file that she had brought inside with her.

"I'm going to hold up a card that contains an image. Can you please tell me what you see when I hold them up?"

"Ooohhhh, the classic flashcards, Doctor. And here I thought you actually had tricks up your sleeve!" Joker laughed in his own amusement, clearly not interested in this exercise.

Harleen held up the first card in front of her face and waited for a response. With no answer, she peeked around the flashcard, only to be abruptly startled by how close Joker had made his way to her - without even making a single sound. Jumping in her seat, Harleen's glasses fell from her face. She blinked a few times, as if deeming the situation safe to take her eyes off of Joker to pick up her glasses.

Suddenly, as if he could swiftly move with such natural ease - Joker reached around Harleen's neck, only to ever so softly, take hold of the hair tie that kept her ponytail in tact. Joker tilted his head to the side, as his deadly lips came centimeters from hers. Harleen could feel each breath that Joker took, as the warmth of his energy oddly triggered a spark within her now trembling body. He grasped the hair tie, and slowly pulled it out from her hair, whilst dropping her damp golden locks to the sides of her delicate face.

"See now… that's _better_." Joker smiled in approval, as Harleen instinctively froze. "I feel like I've connected with you, _Harley_." His whisper danced around her face, and tickled her ears with a forbidden pleasure.

"I do too. I mean, yeah." Harleen stammered.

"I didn't even feel connected with my father, so you must be _special_." Joker replied as he sat back into the therapy chair. Shades of darkness engulfed most of his body, but his distinctive green hair reflected off of the natural light that spilled through the nearby bared window. Joker's expressive blue eyes were also clearly visible, as they never left Harleen's.

Absolutely thrilled that she has possibly gotten on a personal level with the Joker, Harleen quickly picked up her glasses and eagerly leaned forward to hear better – as the relentless wind and rain outside, battered against the Asylum's exterior.

Joker watched Harleen intently, as he noticed that she was already dragged deeply into what he had to say. Waving his hands in the air in a circular motion as he spoke, Joker continued, "My father, was a rough man. He would hit me – never good enough. _Ev-er_. But… he gave me my first _gun_." A smile stretched across Joker's face, as if he were a young child on Christmas morning.

Joker glanced over to study Harleen's reaction. It was just as he expected. Her facial features were drowned in sympathy. Her eyes had turned glassy, as if she were to cry with just hearing that little bit of information.

"I am so, _so_ sorry to hear that, Mister J. Why w-"

"No. No, no, no. _No_." Joker interrupted. He twisted around once again to face Harleen. "Do not ask _why_ someone keeps hurting you." Joker flashed his metallic smile and he extended his arms out, as if to embrace his own words. "Ask _why_ you keep letting them."

Not knowing what to say to his response, Harleen couldn't help but to admire Joker in that very moment. He spoke the truth in so many different ways; on so many different levels.

Just outside of room 248, Dr. Channing purposely walked by to try and take in a few words that were possibly being exchanged inside.

"What she finds so fascinating about that _freak_ , is beyond me." Dr. Channing said to himself. Dr. Channing had a hard time being told _no_ , and continuously being denied. He wouldn't have that.

Dr. Channing approached the stationed guard and showed him his identification card, "Can I please have you just at the end of the hall please? This is just a simple exercise that Dr. Flimmel approved. We would like to see how the Joker reacts to another Doctor, as Dr. Quinzel has made a substantial breakthrough so far. And seeing how this Clown reacts to the security around here, we don't need any distractions."

The guard squinted at Dr. Channing, and glanced at his credentials once again. Satisfied, the guard grunted, "You have five minutes, and then I'm right back here next to the door." The guard then took position just to the edge of the hall. Not too far away, as if trouble were to erupt, he needed to be there in a timely manner.

Dr. Channing stood just beside the tiny door window, so that he may get a peak at the situation inside.

Noticing Harleen exceptionally too close for comfort, Dr. Channing thought that she was being very unprofessional with her body language.

 _"My beautiful Harley…"_ Was all Dr. Channing had to hear, before he quickly unlocked the door and came bursting inside without warning.

A staggering yelp escaped Harleen's lungs as she jumped out of her seat. Joker sat perfectly still, as if nothing could possibly intimidate him.

"YOU!" Dr. Channing pointed towards Joker, "And then there's _you_!" Dr. Channing glared at Harleen. "You are a _freak_ , just like him! What is wrong with _you_?!"

Harleen boldly straightened her posture, "I am doing my _JOB_! Now why don't you get the _hell_ out of here!"

Stepping closer to where Harleen stood up, Dr. Channing grabbed her already injured forearm, and squeezed hard. So hard that the bandage came off and Harleen started to bleed again. She quickly pulled away, and tripped backward – pinning herself into the wall.

Just then, Joker bolted up with such speed - that even Harleen couldn't keep up with such stamina.

As if physical pain was non-existent, Joker sharply snapped backward with a loud CRACK as he came to the end of his restraints, but hovered only inches from Dr. Channing's face. The raving madness that possessed the Joker's eyes, penetrated right through Dr. Channing. A chill ran down Dr. Channing's spine, as he had instantly regretted barging in with no protection.

 _He could kill him._ The Joker thought to himself. _He could kill him right now_. "Careful." The Joker growled. "We wouldn't want Arkham short of a Doctor, now would we?"

Dr. Channing's mouth dropped open, "D-don't you dare touch her!" he protested; trying to sound as threatening as he could manage.

The Joker smiled menacingly, that only a hyena could compare to the sinister giggle that danced off of Joker's red stained lips. "No, no, no, no, no, no. _No_. Not her _rr_ , dear boy." Joker was clearly amused by the sweat that started to glisten off of Dr. Channing's forehead, " _You_."

Joker then fought the restraints, giving him an aggressive wild animal look that was not to be tampered with.

Dr. Channing then started to slowly step back, while keeping his eyes on Joker. "Okay." Dr. Channing said; shaking his head up and down, and puffing his chest out as if to look more like the authority figure. "Okay, if that's how it's going to be. I'm watching the _both_ of you."

As Dr. Channing fled from room 248, Harleen slowly started to walk towards Joker… but stopped herself from going any closer, as she could tell that he was still intently fixed on the door - and his rapid breaths would give any sane person the clear warning to _stay back_.

In this very moment, Harleen could see just how dangerous this man really was… and yet, it still didn't bother her. Joker has not shown an ounce of aggression towards her. In fact, he seemed to be protective over her. At least that is what she hoped.

"Well, now." Joker smiled, as he extended his neck out, and then rolled his head to the side as if to stretch out his anger.

Harleen finally found the courage to speak up, "Are you okay, Mister J?"

" _HA_!" Joker chuckled. He raised both of his hands to smooth back his deep green hair, "That I am!"

Harleen then walked to stand beside Joker, "Listen," she started, "I am so sorr-"

Joker sharply turned to face Harleen. She was closer than ever to Joker. He gently, but firmly grabbed Harleen's face, _"Ask why you keep letting them."_

Harleen stared into Joker's powerful eyes, as his hand cupped over the bottom half of her face. The ominous smiling mouth tattoo on Joker's hand, spread across her face, giving Harleen an animated expression. But the warmth of his hand on Harleen's face - provoked a sensational and satisfying craving that she didn't even know that she had in the first place.

As he slowly slid his hand from Harleen's face, Joker made his way down to her neck, and then to her shoulder; caressing in small circles as he took in the softness of her… and then finally deciding to release Harleen from his mental entrapment, by stepping away from her. Joker raised his hand up, and extended his fingers out to show them painted with red. Harleen gasped and looked down at her arm - she would probably need stitches by the looks of it. She quickly grabbed her already stained Doctors coat and pressed it against her agitated injury.

"Ma'am! Time is up!" The guard yelled through the door.

" _Mmmmm_ , I'll see you soon, baby." Joker playfully growled, as he gently rested one of his blood stained fingers against his sullied lips.

Harleen didn't want to leave the room, and initially forced herself to move her legs toward the door.

After looking back at Joker and gracing him with a grin, Harleen walked out of the door, and back down the long concrete hallway – making her way to her office.

Making sure that Dr. Quinzel was out of sight, the guard who announced that their session time had come to an end, walked into the room where Joker sat.

"Do you want us to take care of Channing, Boss?"

"No." Joker grunted. "Leave him to me. I've got something special in store for that one." His growl rumbled through his chest.

"Got it. And Boss… _we found it._ "

Joker looked up at the fake guard, and his eyes beamed with excitement. "HA – HA – HA!" The same corrupt yet delightful laugh echoed throughout the small room. "Tell the others." Joker barked, "Time to step into the next phase. And I've got a date with _Harley Quinn_ tomorrow."


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:**

 **I apologize for the week long wait for this next chapter. Usually I could write a chapter in one night, but this one really took me most of the week to perfect. I absolutely _loved_ writing this chapter, and yet hated it at the same time - as I wanted every detail to be superb!**

 **You will notice that things are starting to come together, and Harleen is transitioning into the infamous Harley Quinn. Also, we will be getting into Joker's head on a more personal level in these up coming chapters!**

 **I'm super excited, and I truly appreciate all of the follows, favorites, and reviews! They all REALLY make my day. Every single one of them!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 9**

Harleen impassively sat in Arkham's hospital wing. The cold steel patient's table didn't seem to bother her as she waited for the next available Doctor to come in and grace her with tormenting stitches to her right forearm.

Harleen reached into the tiny pocket of her black pencil skirt, and pulled out the small and familiar orange prescription bottle with the label, **'Valium'** traced over the front of it.

Popping the top open with her left thumb, Harleen slightly tilted the small container to her nude distended lips, and let two white pills fall into the back of her throat. Harleen swallowed hard to get the horrid tasting medicine down.

Closing the bottle and replacing it back into her miniature pocket of her tightly formed skirt, Harleen removed her black rim glasses, and pinched the bridge of her nose; squinting her tired eyes in discontent. She didn't understand why she had deserved such menacing circumstances in her life. She had always been kind, supportive, friendly, and devoted to anyone and anything that she did. And yet… it always seemed that life had it's own demented way of showing its gratitude towards her commendable actions. Maybe it was time for a change – maybe she needed to be a little bit bolder, more blunt… stronger in her character. Not take any form of abuse, physically or mentally. Harleen needed to stand up for herself – she deserved at least respect.

"Hello, Dr. Quinzel! I hear that you had a little accident?"

The gentle voice broke Harleen's thoughts of transition. She recognized this Doctor. - Dr. Jay. A very kind man, with a soft touch, soothing voice, and an understanding for medicine and science that went beyond anyone's expectations here at Arkham Asylum. One of the few good and truly honorable individuals that existed in this world. Harleen had the utmost respect for this man, and it was always a pleasure to converse with him. Not once had this intelligent man shown any interest towards Harleen, and she welcomed that.

Dr. Jay wasn't extraordinarily attractive – unlike Dr. Channing's desirable looks, Dr. Jay was what you would call, "Ordinary". But Dr. Jay's perception and personality outshined Dr. Channing's looks, and Harleen preferred that over anything.

Not that Harleen found Dr. Jay attractive, as she hadn't had any interest in anyone in a long time… until Joker came into her life. Now she questioned her own sanity for the immoral thoughts that had recently interrupted her once typical and plain life.

Dr. Jay's thick dark brown hair swayed across his forehead – as he pushed it more to the side of his face, he pulled out a pair of silver framed glasses that rested before his calm hazel eyes.

"Let's take a look at that, Doctor." Dr. Jay said, as he sat down on the black stool that stood before Harleen. He lightly picked up Harleen's right wrist and carefully removed the blood soaked gauze.

Dr. Jay's eyes widened with surprise as he removed the bandage. Harleen even curiously cocked her head to the side to examine the deep wound that looked as if it were straight out of a horror movie. Harleen curled her lips in a frown with disgust. She was more grossed out than anything. Not even feeling the pain that you would think would come with such a grotesque injury. Or maybe… that was the Valium finally kicking in.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?" Dr. Jay asked, as concern flooded through his now stern tone.

Harleen looked away from Dr. Jay, something she did when she lied, "I bumped into a glass vase that I failed to see in my office."

Dr. Jay chuckled sarcastically, "Were you running a marathon in your office or something?"

"I bumped into a glass vase…" Harleen repeated herself, " _Hard_." She now intently stared at Dr. Jay – as if trying to convince him of her fabricated lie – hoping he wouldn't notice the slight twitching of her bottom lip and fluttering of her eyes when she spoke. Harleen was never good at lying, and she usually unwillingly made it fairly easy to notice.

"Well it appears so, Doctor. You certainly bumped into this vase exceptionally 'hard' if I might add. Well, let's get you patched up so that you may be on your way then."

As the needle pierced through her flesh, the surgical thread that followed - felt heavy on Harleen's damaged skin. Harleen would wince each time the agitating tug that Dr. Jay would inflict every time he completed a knot with the thread to close up the wound.

"You're doing well, Doctor." Dr. Jay smiled, as he leaned forward and squinted every time he penetrated Harleen's skin with the needle, "Not many in my lifetime have sat as still as you are for such a procedure. Especially with very limited anesthetic."

Harleen was more irritated than anything - she had learned to deal with physical pain when she was young. That's the thing about pain - it _demands_ to be felt. Pain is temporary; quitting is forever. And Harleen will not quit. Not now, and not anytime soon. Things were going to change for her, and she could _feel_ it.

Though – Harleen had no idea what was in store for her. Life would soon show her that familiar demented gratitude that she always hoped to avoid. Only this time, instead of enduring it - Harleen would _embrace_ it.

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY**

 **7:38 PM**

The sun was barely visible, as the heavy and dark rain clouds from yesterday, had lingered over Gotham City – only to have mild and light showers throughout the day. Though one could see though the sooty sky – the orange and yellow rays of light that tried penetrating the darkness.

Harleen comfortably rested on her soft velvet loveseat in her apartment. The television was on, mostly for background noise as per usual. Harleen had files and numerous papers scattered along her glass coffee table that perched before her, as she scribbled through her reports and notes. She was for once, thankful to be home. Harleen always had enjoyed her job and what she did… but as of late, some of her co-workers were making her life very difficult.

"I wish they would just…" And without thinking, Harleen blurted out the first word that possessed her mind, " _die_!"

Taken aback by her own words, Harleen's eyes enlarged with astonishment - she cupped her hand over her mouth, as if she had just committed the ultimate sin.

"Heh. Ha!" Harleen laughed at herself, clearly amused by her sudden change in character.

She blandly set her notes beside her, whilst leaning back into the fluffy cushion of her sofa. Harleen's over-sized glasses rested against the very center of her eyes, making them feel awkwardly bulky. She closed her dry eyes, and rested her cramping hands against the supple fabric of her dark green nightgown. The comfy knee-high slip felt silky against her skin. It was one of her favorite pieces of wardrobe to sleep in, as it gave Harleen a sense of well-needed refreshment. Her long blonde hair flowed carelessly over the back of the loveseat, when Harleen began to gain her sensibility back.

Just then - a startling and loud **_KNOCK KNOCK_** echoed through her apartment. Harleen bounced up from her relaxing position, with a startled expression. She looked around, as if expecting this unannounced guest was for someone else. Before resorting to her door, Harleen briskly staggered to her window to peer outside; hoping to possibly recognize a vehicle in the road below.

Nothing.

 ** _KNOCK KNOCK._**

"Apparently they aren't going to go away." Harleen whispered to herself, as she cautiously made her way to the door.

Harleen then squinted through the tiny peephole of her apartment door, and she gasped! "Channing? This can't be good." Harleen said aloud. She didn't know if she should open the door.

"Harleen! I know you're in there! I just wanted to give you something that might interest you." Dr. Channing yelled through the door.

Harleen knew that this was a bad idea, but her stingy curiosity got the better of her.

 _'What if he had information on the Joker?'_ She thought to herself. Harleen knew that Dr. Channing wanted to get rid of Joker, which fueled her curiosity even more.

"One second!" Harleen announced - as she put the door chain up as a precaution, Harleen gradually opened her door.

"How in the _hell_ did you find me? How do you know where I live, Channing?" Harleen demanded.

"Can I come in, Harleen? I just want to talk to you." Channing tried putting on the best pout that a desperate man could ever create.

Harleen didn't trust him, and there was something off about Channing tonight that made her entirely uncomfortable. Her gut feeling was screaming at her, but Harleen let her mind do the thinking – and ignoring her instincts.

"What do you want?" She demanded, trying to fill her tone of voice with authority.

"Can I _please_ come in?" Channing sounded a little too desperate.

"No. And if you won't tell me how you found me, nor inform me of what you have to say, then you need to _leave_." Harleen spat harshly. She had hoped that her bluntness would cover the shaky undertone that gave way that she was actually truly scared.

Channing just stood there. His pout was gone, and the familiar obsessive man that couldn't take _'no'_ for an answer, suddenly emerged though his face. Not only did Harleen recognize Channing's instant change, but as her eyes wandered down – Harleen took in the suspicious black pants and black shirt that Channing currently wore.

"I'm going to call the police, Channing. You need to leave!"

As Harleen went to shut her door, it all happened so fast, that it almost seemed like a blur. Channing lifted his bulky foot to Harleen's apartment door, and pushed with so much force behind his slick black boot – that it busted the door chain right off of the frame.

The door violently swung open, knocking Harleen to the floor. She hit the carpeted floor so hard, that her glasses were knocked clean off of her face. As Harleen landed on her back, she quickly sat up as Channing closed her door and locked it.

Harleen looked up at Channing, as her big blue eyes already began to involuntarily tear up from fear.

Channing then carelessly dropped a file over Harleen, so that it landed on her thighs. The papers spilled out, along with a photo. A photo of _her_.

"That," Channing spat, "is how I found you. Thought you'd like your file back."

Harleen blinked rapidly, fighting the stubborn tears and trying to process what was actually going on. She grabbed the folder in which the papers flopped out of… the top of it labeled:

 ** _'Harleen Frances Quinzel: Arkham Asylum Archive'_**

Channing was the one who stole her file. But why? Was he really stalking her? Harleen knew that Channing was an idiot and downright rude, but this showed just how unstable this man really was.

Channing's revolting laugh put a putrid taste in Harleen's mouth, "No wonder you like that fucking Clown!" Channing bickered at Harleen, "Daddy issues." He mimicked in a high-pitched baby voice. Channing laughed, "I should've known. But the way that _FREAK_ looks at you, irks me for some reason."

Harleen's defenses were bent, and she instinctively froze; not moving from the spot which she fell. "You're sick, Channing. Let me help you." Harleen pleaded. It was her only option at this point. "Please, just – just don't do anything stupid."

Channing raised his harms and fluttered his fingers through his hazel brown hair. He then walked over to Harleen's coffee table as if he owned the place. Swinging his legs like he was doing a mild victory dance, which only he would understand. He casually picked up some of the papers that Harleen was working on just minutes ago.

Quickly glancing at paper after paper, Channing tossed every item that he picked up rashly to the floor. Suddenly, with no warning, Channing leaned over the thick transparent coffee table, extended both arms out, and swiftly scattered everything across the apartment.

Harleen's pulse quickened, and her breaths became shorter. She thought that she was going to pass out. Suddenly, she spotted her possible escape. Just feet across from her and against the wall, was a lamp stand. And next to her silver antique lamp was the taser gun that Dr Flimmel had given her. If she could discreetly scoot over to the lamp stand, Harleen could grab the taser gun that would surely drop Channing to his knees.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Channing interrupted her thought process.

Harleen's body began to shake, and her voice even more so, "Channing, please… let's… let us go to that dinner. You would like that, right?" Harleen was trying to calm the situation down, but it didn't seem to have any effect. She slowly started to scoot towards the wall where her lamp stand sat - she was now only inches away, and could almost grab it.

Channing suddenly noticed Harleen moving across the floor, "Where do you think you're going, beautiful?" He leaned over so that his face met Harleen's. The smell of booze invaded her nostrils.

"Channing," Harleen whispered, "You're drunk. This can ruin your career! You _HELP_ people. This isn't you!" Harleen tried putting her training into action, but she deemed her attempts useless.

As a part of working at Arkham Asylum, you were required to take an eight week course – and in one of the training sessions, you were taught on how to handle a situation if a patient were to break out of the Asylum and invade your residence. But… there was no training on how to deal with a drunken employee gone rogue.

"Ruin my career?" Channing mocked, "I don't think so." He chuckled, "My father is the head Director, there's no way a small little girl such as yourself could possibly get me fired, no matter what I do to you."

Harleen was stunned with this little bit of information. _'Flimmel was Channing's father?'_ Harleen thought to herself. Everyone knew that Channing only got into the Asylum because his father was a lead Doctor. But no one ever questioned who his father was, nor really cared. It actually made perfect sense to Harleen, as both men were equally vile.

"And… no one is here, especially that fucking _Clown_ – to protect you from what I'm about to do."

Suddenly, Channing grabbed Harleen by the throat with this left hand, and then her shoulder with his right - gripping her flesh ever so tightly, that he lifted her up with such drunken force, and he violently slammed her upright against the wall.

Harleen's apartment shook with the tremendous force under her body. Her mind spun out of control, _'Could no one hear the disturbance in this god awful building?!'_ Harleen resorted to panic now, as she knew exactly what Channing's vulgar intentions were.

Harleen tried to scream, but nothing came out as Channing had a firm grip on her small and delicate throat. His grip was just enough to keep her breathing, though she was now wishing that she could just pass out - and just let it happen while she was unconscious – as if it were only a nightmare. Being awake for this would be even more horrifying than a good physical beating.

Just then, Harleen gained the courage to fight back. She looked over to the lamp stand that stood just beside her, and she stretched out her hand – reaching for the taser gun that could possibly save her life.

Channing released Harleen's shoulder, only to pin her left arm behind her back. His force against her crushed her arm and her small frame. Channing's body ricocheted an intolerable heat, he panted with lust, and his stiff erection jabbed at Harleen's stomach. Still desperately reaching for the taser gun, Harleen felt Channing take a fistful of her green nightgown, and lift it over her hips. He then violently grabbed her underwear, and began to harshly pull it off.

It was as if Harleen's adrenaline suddenly kicked in. She used Channing's grip on her throat to balance her weight on, lifted both of her legs up, dug far into Channing's abs, and kicked with all her might.

Channing flew a few feet backwards as he laughed at Harleen's attempt. That was all Harleen needed. She quickly grabbed the taser gun just as Channing flew into her personal space. Harleen squeezed the trigger.

Channing dropped to the floor as 25,000,000-volts pulsed through his body. His limbs stiffened, his eyes wide, and his teeth clenched.

Harleen looked at the taser gun, as if she were silently thanking it for saving her life. She didn't make full contact with the taser gun, so Harleen stood ready if Channing decided to get up and attack her again.

She watched as Channing shook his head and struggled to regain function of his own body. He then staggered upright, as Harleen caught a glimpse of his saturated pants from wetting himself. Harleen braced herself, with one foot in front of the other, eyes locked on her target, and taser gun pointed directly in front of her.

"Bitch." Channing coughed.

"Get the _FUCK OUT_!" Harleen deeply screamed. She panted out of anticipation, ready to fight – even if it killed her.

Channing's wild brown hair stuck to his sweaty face, as he glared at Harleen. But even as drunk as he was, that taser gun hurt, and he knew that he needed to get out of there quickly.

Harleen shuffled towards her apartment door, unlocked it, and swung it open for Channing to easily leave. Her hair was untamed, her face puffy, her nightgown ripped and hung loosely on her shoulders, and her throat swollen - Harleen held her defensive stance.

Without any more hesitation, Channing staggered out of the door and down the hallway of the apartment building until he disappeared. Harleen quickly slammed the door closed and locked it.

Alone once more in her depleted apartment, Harleen's adrenaline deflated away - and she was suddenly overwhelmed with such emotion, that she dropped the taser gun, and fell to her knees in sobbing tears.

Instantly overwhelmed with her outburst of feelings, Harleen quickly stood up and ran to her bedroom. She put on a pair of black tights, black combat boots, and a black turtleneck. And without any thought, Harleen grabbed her white Doctors coat, her apartment keys, and ran from her home, whilst throwing the white coat over her shaken body.

She didn't care if Channing may have been waiting for her outside, or if Joker's men were to possibly follow her. Nothing could possibly intimidate her in this distressing state of mind right now. So many emotions, so many bad and terrifying memories exploded throughout her head.

The cold and chilling air hit Harleen's lungs like a punch in the gut. The light sprinkling of rain fell from the purple night sky and created a light blanket of water over Harleen's twisted and flustered face. Harleen broke into a jog, and within a few blocks, she came across the one place where she found sanctuary. It was as if her subconscious knew exactly where to go when feeling at its lowest.

The massive and familiar Gothic structure stood before Harleen's trembling legs. The Darcy Church stared back at Harleen, but this time, it wasn't as comforting as it normally would have been.

Gaining control over her sobbing, Harleen entered the quiet Church.

Only a few people were scattered throughout the big building, resting their heads in prayer – possibly asking a false God for forgiveness or for help that would never come.

If there were a God, why would he let someone like Harleen lead such a traumatic life? And then continue to punish her for the good deeds that she continually accomplished? Even if there was a God, Harleen thought, he did not favor her. It was as if the Devil himself had won that bet.

So why not give in to the Devil? Harleen then thought of Joker. Could he be the one to show what part Harleen was truly meant for in this world? She found Joker absolutely fascinating, intriguing… _sexy_. His chaos and intellect fueled her imagination.

If you keep knocking on the Devil's door, sooner or later – he'll invite you in. But then… the Devil is an Angel too. So – who to confide in?

Harleen sat on one of the long wooden pews that stood before the great altar of Jesus Christ. The oversized white marble statue of Christ was actually an exquisite sight. Harleen then lowered her head, as if she were in prayer like the rest. She casually put her frigid cold hands in the pockets of her white Doctors coat, when she suddenly felt something at the bottom of one of the pockets.

Harleen slowly pulled it out, and examined the simple black hair tie. The same hair tie that Joker removed from her hair earlier today. She twisted it and turned it, taking in the plain sight of this lucid object.

Harleen thought of Joker's warm breath against her lips, his soothing voice that haunted her every night - which she craved to hear him talk to her all through the hours, the alluring energy that would ignite within her entire body when she would come anywhere near his presence, the way he would gently caress her – only to inflict pleasurable pain if only she asked for it…

Harleen thought that she was curing Joker… but she was actually falling in love.

Harleen found herself with her eyes closed, deeply inhaling the hair tie – hoping that she could possibly catch any of Joker's scent within it.

As Harleen slowly opened her eyes, she was abruptly surprised by the holy statue of Christ… it was staring straight at her, as if the Messiah himself came down from the heavens to judge Harleen in dejection. Harleen's mouth fell open, and her head turned ever so slightly to the side – taking in this impossible sight.

Suddenly, streams of thick bright red liquid seeped out of the eyes of the statue. Harleen let out an unexpected cry that caused her to jump out of her seat, and almost tip backward.

She looked over at an unsuspecting Priest who glanced her way in confusion. Harleen's eyes rapidly scanned the room, from person to person, looking as if she had seen a ghost. Her eyes then went back to the brilliantly polished statue, only for it to be back to normal - like nothing had ever happened.

Harleen clenched her teeth, closed her eyes tightly, and shook her head – as if to view the world in a clearer focus.

Was she going _crazy_? Harleen suddenly felt discontent, and an overwhelming unwelcoming feeling in her once safe haven.

Harleen stood up, and hastily walked out of the Darcy Church. It was pouring rain now, and Harleen walked right into the heavy sheets of raindrops – only to be instantly drenched.

Harleen lost control of her sensibility yet again, and her eyes filled with tears of despair. Backing into the dull red brick wall of the Church, Harleen let her emotions flow freely, letting whatever feeling come to surface with no consequence. Harleen let her limp body slide down the rough and wet wall, as her sobs suddenly became shortened. Her crying smoothly transitioned into a faint chuckle – a certain chuckle that she had never heard herself conjure up before.

That chuckle then became a full and candidly loud laughter that came straight from the pit of her stomach. Harleen stretched her sore and bruised neck upward, facing the heavens as if to mock whatever entity claimed to rule over mankind. Her laugh danced among the liquid sunshine, and whatever trace of fear that lingered within her – faltered and evaporated with the falling raindrops.

It's as if the rain had come as a baptism of blasphemy. To wash away whatever held Harleen back – as if she were being _reborn_.

The next morning, Harleen woke up in her soundless apartment. She rolled over in her bed to look at her bedside clock, only to realize that she had slept in.

Not too concerned with her late arrival to work this morning, it was only 11:02am and Harleen was just glad that she didn't miss her session with Joker.

A lazy warm shower, a fresh and clean black pencil skirt, and black button up blouse made Harleen feel rejuvenated. She had decided that she would put in her notice, and fight for a request that the Joker be moved with her – to whatever facility she transferred to. It would logically make sense, as no other Doctor had come this far along with Joker as she did… nor did many Doctors want to take on the job of treating the Clown Prince of Gotham. He was hers, and she was his. His _Harley Quinn_.

Harleen smiled at the name Joker had given her. One of the many things that Joker did that brought a sincere smile to her face.

Just before Harleen walked out of her apartment, she noticed her reflection in the wall mirror beside her door. She looked different. Her hair was still routinely tied back, her normal professional attire, and yet… Harleen had a distinctive altered presence about her. And she liked it. Except for the black and purple protruding bruise that covered her neck. It looked absolutely awful, and now that she noticed it - Harleen could feel it too.

She decided to change into a form fitting black turtleneck that would cover most of her aching neck. That's all she could do for now.

* * *

 **ARKHAM ASYLUM**

 **12:45pm**

Heading down to the regular session room to meet with Joker, Harleen's heels loudly clicked against the concrete flooring of Arkham Asylum as scheduled. She hadn't seen Channing since she had arrived, and that was probably for the best, as this time – Harleen didn't think she could control the animosity that dwelled inside of her. She had shed her last tears the night before, and left them there with the Church whom denied her.

Stepping into the bright florescent lit room, Joker sat there at his usual spot, in his off-white straitjacket, dark blue sweats, and strapped down to the already bolted down steel chair.

Harleen would usually feel ecstatic to see Joker, but now, it saddened her to see him in such a confined space.

The radiant spark of invisible energy engulfed the room once again. Something that Harleen welcomed whenever she was around Joker.

Instead of greeting Harleen as he usually did, Joker cocked his head ever so slightly and studied her – like he did on the first day of their session.

Joker's sharp blue eyes eagerly consumed Harleen, as if studying her for the first time all over again. His sporadic scaring on his face seemed to dance around, as his eyes shifted from one position to the other.

"Good afternoon, Mister J. I trust that you had a pleasant night."

Joker then meekly cocked his head to the other side, and slowly formed his delighted and amused gracious smile that stretched across his face. Although… this wicked smile was a little different to Harleen. Joker's mouth hung slightly open, exposing all of his leaden metallic teeth – and he heaved out puffs of air, as if wanting to emanate his familiar menacing laugh, but it was too hyperactive of an emotion to fully express – even for him.

Harleen, thoroughly amused by Joker's overly animated expression, she asked, "What is so funny, Mister J?"

"You're different, sweet stuff." Joker murmured, "And I absolutely _LOVE_ this look on you." Joker huffed out another pocket of air, as if his signature laugh was temporarily stunned for the moment.

Harleen beamed with a subtle smile, and twirled a loose strand of her golden locks with her index finger – before pulling it back over her ear and out of her face. "How am I different, Mister J? Did I dress funny?" Harleen chuckled.

" _Sss_ sometimes," Joker hissed, "you just have to _die_ a little inside in order to be _reborn_." Joker tilted his head back, exposing his well-defined jaw line. Harleen didn't know that she could find someone's jaw line so… exquisite.

Joker kept his eager eyes on Harleen, almost never blinking. Joker burned with curiosity – as he's never been so intrigued to find out such simple information about a person. "What happened to you, sweetheart? I know the laws of madness… and I can _smell_ it within you; waiting to be _liberated_."

Joker then lowered his head, as a stray strand of his brilliant green hair draped over his eye. He arced his head completely to the side and rotated his distinctive facial features upwards towards the glare of the overhead lights – as if to drive the straggling strand of hair back into place.

"Why do you kill people, Mister J?" Harleen didn't even have that question written down, as it seemed to just creep from her lips to ask - out of her own prying mind.

Joker quickly snapped his face down back to meet Harleen's, and moved closer to her - trying to lean further into the bolted down table so that he could answer her question in a personal proximity.

Harleen leaned in over the table, lifting her bottom from her hard chair to get even closer to Joker's sultry face.

Joker was pleased that Harleen desperately wanted to hear what he had to say, even more so – she wanted to be near him. Not many people enjoyed being so abutting close to him. And if they were… they were already dead.

Harleen could once again feel the warmth of Joker as they inched closer to each other. Not blinking, Joker whispered, "Why do we kill people - who are killing people - to show that killing people is wrong?"

Harleen fluttered her eyelids, as if absorbing Joker's powerful words.

"Oh!" Joker continued, "And. It's. _FUNNN_!" Joker's face lit up as he expressed murder as if it were some form of an amusing hobby.

Harleen giggled, but quickly composed herself with a snort as she realized that she was finding Joker's dark words humorous.

Harleen's ambition fed Joker's growing appetite that he was developing for her. He simply meant to manipulate this woman at first… Because he needed more inside help to reach the outside of the Asylum. Now that Joker found what he was looking for within Arkham, he grew impatient – as he eagerly wanted to put his notorious plans into action. But Joker wanted to know if this beautiful woman before him was truly falling for his game. Yet… Joker realized that he was also falling deep into his own so-called game. Only it wasn't a game to him anymore… he was growing quite fond of Harleen – which was altering Joker's instincts, which could in turn – end up being erratically dangerous.

Joker fought the admiration that engulfed his senses, yet his unstable mind egged on the thrilling unknown.

The closeness of Harleen's face to his sent a flush of charge down Joker's spine. Joker instinctively inhaled deeply, as he slowly caressed his nose against Harleen's cream-like skin. Harleen closed her eyes, a sign of absolute trust, as Joker continued to gently inhale Harleen's distinctive and sweet scent - as if mentally mending himself to her.

Harleen's body reacted - and it showed through her skin as her face flooded a lavish pink, and goose bumps graced down her neck. The flutter of her body's pleasurable reaction backfired - as it sent a sharp pain through Harleen's sore and tender neck, and she instantly reacted by promptly whipping back into her hard compact seat.

Joker didn't move so suddenly as Harleen had. Instead, he locked his piercing eyes with hers, and slowly moved back towards his seat. As Joker slid down to the edge of the table, his face twisted in a primitive and predatory glare that shot right through Harleen's defensive barrier. Joker knew that Harleen was hiding something, and that _angered_ him.

Harleen subconsciously folded one of her arms across herself, as if trying to build her defensive barrier back up from the Joker. But to no avail, she nervously bit her bottom lip and looked away from his blazing blue eyes, and trying to act as if she meant to focus on the papers that littered the table in front of her.

" _Harley_." Joker's voice was almost like a mental healing spell that nuzzled Harleen's already broken body. "There is something that you could do for me." He growled.

Harleen immediately looked up at Joker with desiring eyes, "Anything. I mean, yeah."

"I need a machine gun." Joker grunted.

"A-a machine gun?" Harleen couldn't process what Joker asked fast enough, as his question was bluntly out of nowhere.

Joker dropped his jaw and emanated a sinister and heaving soft laugh that would have thoroughly disturbed any other person who would have experienced such a sound. Joker's eyes creased, and his crimson lips thinned as his smile beamed from one ear to the other. His body marginally swayed from left to right, as if harmonizing with an unseen force.

Harleen's face sat expressionless - as she still ran Joker's question through her head, and then finally fully understanding what he was asking of her. She lightly cupped her chin with her hand, as she contemplated Joker's complex yet simple question. Harleen then unknowingly dropped her hand to her neck and instantly winced, as her finger caught hold of the top of her turtleneck, only to reveal a black and purple blotch that stained her once soft and delicate neck.

Harleen didn't think that Joker caught a glimpse of her damaged body, but she underestimated his quick concentration and stunning attention to detail. The overwhelming outbreak of fury seared through Joker's bloodstream. It was almost too agonizing for him to keep control of himself as he had witnessed the flawed pigment of Harleen's skin under her turtleneck.

Joker wanted to kill someone – and this was the very thing that worried him most, when he thought that his fondness with Harleen would cause unpredictable and dangerous consequences... as he was feeling right now.

Stretching his neck from side to side impulsively, as if to ease the immense desire to cause harm to someone, Joker composed himself. "Ya know, Harley…" There was a faint growl in his voice that he couldn't help but to let loose, "Ma _yy_ ybe…" Joker continued, but could not contain the low rumble behind his tone as he curved his voice around each word as he spoke, "You should've wrapped that lovely neck of yours with a beautiful _black and red handkerchief scarf_."

Harleen felt her stomach protrude to the back of her throat, and then drop right back into place, causing a nauseating, yet jittery feeling that overpowered the function of her limbs. She went limp, her pupils dilated, and everything around her had disappeared. It was just her… and Joker.

"Y-you…" Harleen stumbled over her words, fighting to get out what she wanted to say, "You remember me."

"How could I forget?" Joker cooed.

"That was a long time ago… and you didn't even see my face. H-how?"

"Your scent. And apparently, you haven't taken my advice, baby. Now… _who_ did that. _To_. _You_?" Joker's demanding tone gave Harleen a sense of security, and she wanted him to see what she had endured.

As she slowly began to pull down the turtleneck to expose the damage, just then – the session door buzzed unlocked. The heavy door swung open, only to have Channing rushing inside with another male Doctor on his heels.

"You cannot be in here, Dr. Channing! What are you doing?!" The other male Doctor yelled out loud – as worry spread across his face. The panic-stricken Doctor was deliberately tugging on Channing's white lab coat as he came stampeding towards Harleen.

As Harleen jumped up from her chair - Channing shoved Harleen out of the way, and she stumbled into the cold hard wall.

"Ah!" The Joker announced out loud without moving from his seat. His poisonous smile corrupted his pale face, and his eyes turned almost black. "I think we may have a winner here! Tell me, _Doctor_ , did you enjoy doing that?"

Channing threw back his arm, and backhanded Joker across the face. Joker's laugh was menacing, loud, and deep, as he whipped right back around to face Channing – as if challenging Channing's own sanity, "HA- HA- HAAAA _HAHAHA_!"

The other male Doctor struggled to pull Channing away from Joker, but Channing balled up his fist this time, and punched the Doctor directly in the face – knocking him a few feet onto the white tiled floor. "I meant that one for _you_!" Channing raged towards Joker.

As Channing balled his fist for a shot at the Joker, Harleen's piercing scream echoed throughout the small session room.

Harleen instinctively grabbed her pen from the table, raised it high above her head - and with all the might that she could conjure, Harleen violently stabbed Channing's hand over the table – only to fully pierce through his flimsy flesh, and all the way through his trembling hand. The pen had pinned his now blood stained hand to the table, holding him there – like a trapped animal.

Channing howled in pain, as the dark red liquid pooled on to the table. Security instantly pressed inside of the already crowded session room. Without hesitation, the burly security guard gripped the bloodstained pen and ripped it from Channing's damaged hand. Channing cried out in agony, and instantly cradled his morbid wound to his chest, whilst cupping it with his other hand – trying to stop the spitting blood loss.

Harleen flattened her back against the wall. Though the dire situation would have brought a crushing horror to any other person, Harleen had quite the calm and composed expression across her face. She was defending herself. Harleen was finally taking matters into her own hands, and fighting back to protect herself… to protect her Mister J.

A faint gust of air escaped Harleen's lungs, and a small half impish cock of her mouth turned upward – as if she were trying to hold back a sadistic giggle. "Well," she said to herself, as the commotion was far too loud in the room for anyone to hear her, "We now know that the table isn't real steel."

Joker noticed Harleen's almost restful yet excited disposition. He was starting to become familiar with her body language, and this was the first time he had noticed Harleen in a completely controlled manner - and the sight of such fierce bloodshed, was like a harmonious symphony that caressed his every limb.

Joker closed his eyes, as if to listen to the sweet music of brutality, as security detained Dr. Channing. Joker's relaxed body swayed in a circular motion – almost as if he were dancing to a collection of musical notes that only he could hear. Joker opened his primitive eyes and locked them with Harleen's. Her life that has fully betrayed her - had her now burning in a blistering fire of content. He _knew_ … Joker knew that he had _her_. And he already knew… that he would get his machine gun.

Phase two has begun.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:  
**

 **This is another longer chapter that I was pleased to write! I hope you all enjoy! Again, thank you so much for the reviews, favorites, and follows!  
**

 **Also, as a side note - I pictured my Two-Face as Tommy Lee Jones. He will always be my Two-Face lol**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 10**

 **ARKHAM ASYLUM**  
 **SIX YEARS AGO**  
 **2:48PM**

The Arkham security guard lifted his black baton and repeatedly tapped the small-bared window of the inmate's cell.

 _ **CLACK CLACK** _ "Time for your exercise today!"

The hefty young security guard started to unlock the cell door. The worn plaque plastered to the front of the tall steel door read:

 **'0751 Dent, Harvey'**

A low shuffle emanated inside of the darkened cell, as the inmate walked sluggishly towards the entrance - waiting for the guard to routinely detain him.

"Rough night, Mister Dent?"

A low rumble escaped the cracked lips from behind the rusty bars, "It's _Two-Face_! And don't you forget that, son!"

The guard chuckled to himself, "Okay, _Two-Face_!" He cracked a smile and put an overly dramatic tone of voice to correct himself of Harvey Dent's criminal name.

"You know, son - I've flipped this coin all night," Two-Face continued, as he held up a dull silver coin against the secured window, "and it would seem that... your days could be brighter."

Two-Face finally came into dim light, as his dark blue sweats and dark blue sweater hung loosely off of his limbs. He tilted his head, so that his left side was obscured by the fawning shadows. The wistful darkness engulfed most of his face, but Two-Faces' dark eyes seemed to impossibly glow in the uneasy darkness.

The guard, paying little attention to Two-Face as this was a bi-daily schedule, opened the cell door with a ready to use taser gun pointed in Two-Face's direction. "You know the routine, Gemini. Place your hands behind your back and turn around. I know this isn't what you want, but it's protocol."

Two-Face inhaled an over exaggerated breath, rolled his eyes, and playfully danced as he turned around.

The guard reached for Two-Faces' wrists, but the sudden flick of Two-Faces' hands sent his silver coin flying into the air, high above their heads.

Just as Two-Face had anticipated, the distracting coin caught the clueless guards attention, as he focused carelessly on the coin that was flipped into the air.

Two-Face instantaneously whipped around, leaned back, and violently butted his hard skull against the unsuspecting guard - right between the eyes.

The foolish guard rolled his eyes back into his head, and fell straight backwards - being completely knocked out.

"It's not about what I _want_!" Two-Face spat, as he stood over the guards limp body. His left side entered the faint lighting, only to create a contorted illumination over his acid stained face. No trace of white flesh covered the horrific left side of his face - only the ruminants of deep pink muscle and torn tissue masked over his bone structure. "It's about what's _fair_!"

Two-Face then caught his coin that had spun upward into the air, and then flipped it upon the top of his hand - only to reveal a smooth surface. "Weeeell sh-eit." Two-Face cracked, "Looks like when I finally have the chance to kill you, fate changes it's mind. Okay, buddy-boy! In you go! Hehe!"

Two-Face gripped the Arkham guards wrists, and hastily dragged the big man into his grimy cell. Stealing the guards keys and Arkham jacket - Two-Face securely locked the guard inside of the dark room.

Shaking his hands, as if to loosen the tension, Two-Face was glad for all the meds that the Doctors of Arkham had pumped him with – as he couldn't feel an ounce of pain when a single drop of blood slowly ran down the middle of his forehead.

Looking both ways down the long and dark corridors to make sure the coast was relatively clear, Two-Face proceeded with confidence. He strut down the long halls of Arkham while other inmates called after him, as if in applause for his rambunctious wandering of the Asylum alone.

Two-Face basked in the attention, as this was the most excitement he's endured in months since he had arrived at Arkham.

Turning left, right, right, another right, and then left again, Two-Face lead himself with purpose through the Asylum, knowing exactly where he was going.

Entering through a door where he knew where all of the industrial machinery was located, the room glowed a faint red, and the loud sounds of machines continuously working overtime punched at ones eardrums. Two-Face closed the door behind him and proceeded down the staircase into the warehouse-sized room.

He approached a massive AC unit that apparently provided the air conditioning throughout the Asylum. Two-Face kneeled down, lowered himself onto his stomach, and slowly inched his way under the machine. Half way under the mechanical contraption, Two-Face came across a loose concrete tile on the floor. He removed the tile, exposing a very compact and well hidden spot for any intimate object.

With the little to no space that he was in, Two-Face shifted his hand down the neck of his sweater, and grabbed a thick stack of papers that were neatly and tightly rolled up so that no immediate damage nor rips could interfere with the delicate material.

The faint words traced the top paper: _'Gotham City HVAC Systems and Access Codes'._ Two-Face gently placed the papers into the cubby-hole, and then replaced the loose tile back into place.

A growling grin animated Two-Faces' mouth, as he swiftly emerged from under the big AC unit. Dusting himself off, he began to walk back up the stairs, and back out of the door in which he came.

Turning the first corner, Two-Face was unsurprisingly greeted with twenty distressed, and geared security guards - armed with fully automatic weapons pointed directly at his twisted face.

"Oh, Oh Ohhhy!" He playfully expressed at he waved his hands in the air in defeat. "I was just taking a little stroll through your wooooonderful quarters!"

"Cuff him." An Arkham guard ordered, as he raised a walkie, "10-54 we have the suspect 0751 safely in custody."

Two-Face flipped his dull silver coin and caught it - only to glimpse the damaged and scratched surface.

"Well, men!" Two-Face announced, as he lifted his arms to his side, "It looks like you caught me in a good mood! Because I like a good confrontation!"

As Two-Faces' right side looked innocent and truthful, his left side sneered in such a horrific way, that even some of the fully armed guards took a step away from such a sight. Just then, Two-Face snatched the walkie from the guard who had deemed the situation safe and controlled. Two-Face raised the walkie and smashed it against the guards head so hard, that the tremendous force caused him to fall to his knees, even though the guard was wearing a flat black helmet for situations such as this.

Dodging a combination of numerous punches, grabs, and swings, Two-Face was able to take out four more Arkham guards before the release of 25,000,000 volts pulsed through his body - and immediately dropping him on the hard and cold concrete floor.

Two-Face rolled his head in a circular motion, as if to wake himself from his short and brief slumber - only to find himself in an egg-shell colored straitjacket and securely strapped to an upright rolling table.

The Arkham Guards were tearing his cell apart, as if looking for something.

"Hey, Harvey! You awake?" An Arkham guard pecked at Two-Face. "Where is it?"

Two-Face bestowed a rather confused looking face, but his twisted smile gave away his poor attempt at lying. "I have no idea what you're talking about. If you wanted my porn, you should've just asked."

"Personnel says that there is an item missing from the 'Property Room' from your bin. What was it, and where is it, Harvey?"

Two-Face just shook his distorted face at the guard, "I have no idea what you're talking about." Two-Face muttered as he clucked his tongue in boredom.

Arkham Asylum was on lock down for that week - tearing apart every corner of Two-Faces' cell - and even parts of the Asylum...

But found absolutely nothing.

* * *

 **ARKHAM ASYLUM**  
 **PRESENT DAY**  
 **5:44PM**

Harleen sat in Dr. Flimmel's office with an expressionless face, as if her mind was elsewhere. Dr. Flimmel casually walked into the office and sat down. He looked thoroughly disturbed, and considering the recent events, Harleen couldn't fully blame him for doing so, as she probably looked just as disturbed as him.

"I'm going to excuse this mess that happened in the session room today." Dr. Flimmel continued, "We've taken your incident report, and we all do know that Dr. Channing can be a little out of line."

"Sir." Harleen interrupted, "With all due respect, but _YOUR_ son is always excessively out of line!"

Dr. Flimmel sat quietly, staring at Harleen with questioning eyes, wondering how she could have known that Channing was his son - and also her new found boldness. That was unexpected to him.

Dr. Flimmel continued as if Harleen hadn't said a word, "As professional Doctors of Arkham Asylum, it is strongly against our policy, and illegal to attack our patients. That is why I will put you on a two week paid leave - so that you may recuperate from this incident."

Harleen dropped her jaw in defiance, "No! I-I can't!"

"And why can't you? It's basically a paid vacation, Harleen!"

"I've come so far with the Joker, I cannot just get up and leave for two weeks!"

"The Joker won't be going anywhere, Harleen. He will be right where you left him."

Harleen thought against Dr. Flimmels last statement, considering the last request that Joker heaved upon her. Even if she wanted to get Joker a machine gun, where in the world would she get a hold of such artillery?

Harleen shook her head of the thoughts that invaded her mind. She couldn't believe that she was even considering breaking one of her patients out of Arkham... but she was in love with him. Harleen still fought at the feelings that she had felt for Joker, trying to make up some random and reasonable excuse as to why she was always feeling _alive_ when around such a man.

"Doctor," Harleen slightly leaned over Dr. Flimmel's hard desk, and extended her hand out impulsively, as if to try to comfort with what she had to say, "Please, don't make me walk away from such progress."

Dr. Flimmel looked at Harleen's hand, and extended his own out to caress hers, "Well... there is _something_ that you can do for me."

Harleen instinctively pulled her hand back, as Dr. Flimmel read into her body language the complete wrong way.

"There's a Gala Benefit Party that is coming up within the next few days, I trust that you remember the invitations that were sent out months ago?"

Harleen nodded, "The one night event where Bruce Wayne must show off his insignificant earnings by inviting every rich folk in Gotham? Yes. Yes, I know of it."

Dr. Flimmel could easily detect the sarcastic undertone that Harleen spat, and thought it amusing, "If it weren't for Mister Wayne, this Asylum wouldn't exist. We count on this Gala fundraiser, so Harleen, show some enthusiasm."

"Well, I don't really have to, as I will not be attending."

"Here's the thing," Dr. Flimmel continued, "If you attend the Gala with _me_ , I'll have your paid leave shortened to only one week and, I won't report today's incident to the GCPD, as that is a relevant protocol that I must follow in such dreadful situations as this... and who knows if my son will try to press charges. You don't want that kind of stress in your life right now, do you?" Dr. Flimmel raised his eyebrows, and waited for Harleen to answer.

Harleen just realized that this scumbag was trying to blackmail her. And all for what? A date? An escort to a flimsy party? Though, what harm could it do? She wouldn't be arriving in the same vehicle as Dr. Flimmel, she would be going straight home after, and - it was in a public place, with lots of people present.

"Aren't you supposed to take your _wife_?" Harleen curved her voice around her sentence as she spoke it. Harleen was always a faithful and loyal lady in her relationships, and this man made her skin itch with absolute disgust.

"She's out of town on business." Dr. Flimmel acknowledged, as he sheepishly smiled at her.

 _'This is for Joker.'_ Harleen thought to herself.

"Okay." Harleen mumbled out of defeat.

"Splendid!" Dr. Flimmel clapped. "I'll send a car to your place at 6:45pm on Friday."

"That won't be necessary, Doctor. I have my own wa-"

"Harleen, you don't want me to rethink this, now do you?"

Anger swelled in the pit of Harleen's stomach. She wanted to take another pen and this time, stab Dr. Flimmel right between the eyes – but she balled her fists tightly to control the ill temper feeling that boiled beneath her skin.

"Well, then," Dr. Flimmel continued, "today is Wednesday, don't forget! That will be all. Thank you, Harleen." He waved his clammy hands in the air, gesturing towards the door.

 _'Was he really just dismissing her like a dog?'_ Harleen thought to herself. This was going to be one hell of a week.

But what Harleen didn't know… was just how accurate her statement was - as her hellish week was certainly to come.

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY**

 **8:01PM**

Harleen shortly just arrived back in her apartment. She no longer felt entirely safe in her once cozy and secluded home. Now… painful and disturbing memories stained the walls – almost as if the structure would tell her of the horrid stories that she wanted to forever forget, every time she had walked through the door.

It was a quiet night – very odd considering that the city of Gotham never sleeps, and usually has some sort of commotion to disturb the silence at all hours of the day.

Harleen sat at her small round kitchen table that stood just beneath a small, yet not too distracting chandelier. The brightness of the lighting fixture made Harleen squint, as she tiredly took her glasses from her face, and pausing at the sporadic thought of moving to another place. Now that she's had an unstable co-worker stalk her, and possibly one of the most notorious murderers in Gotham watching her - it was time to move to a different residence, possibly outside of Gotham, where no one would know. Not only did Harleen need the slight change in scenery, but it would also be of dire importance to her safety. Even with other future patients, her home should be her safe place… when currently, it was by far from just that.

Suddenly, Harleen's phone rang. The loud and generic ringtone startled her, as she frantically searched where she had laid her purse down.

Spotting it near the door entrance, Harleen stood up, and clawed her way into her bag, whilst trying to feel for the vibration of her phone.

Finally retrieving her device, the screen blinked: **_'Arkham Asylum'_** _._

Harleen twisted her face into a baffling look, and instantly wondered why her work would be calling soon after she had left there.

"This is Doctor Quinzel." Harleen answered.

"Yes, Doctor, I'm sorry to disturb you and for calling at a later hour." A male voice responded - who she did not recognize. _'Must be the night crew.'_ Harleen thought to herself.

"My name is Tim Freeman, and I work at Arkham – providing care and tending to our patients after hours. Are you busy?"

"N-no, Mr. Freeman. How can I help you?"

Tim laughed, "Well, funny you should ask, but – one of your patients has acted up and we unfortunately had to administer tranquilizers to clam him before he hurt anyone else in his tantrum fit. But he keeps asking for you. Would it be possible for you to come in?"

Harleen slowly processed what she was being told and shook the dumbfounded look from her face, "Who acted up? Which patient?"

"The Joker."

The name sent chills running down Harleen's spine, yet it was very satisfying to hear - even though, she was afraid that Tim was going to say that name. Harleen did have an odd yet intense craving to see Joker even after hours, and she clearly knew that she was feeling a little more than she should towards such a man - he still intimidated her. Especially if he was showing any kind of aggression. Harleen hadn't seen him drive to the deep end just yet. Even when she first encountered Joker all those years ago at the bank – she had her eyes closed – fearing what she might have witnessed. Harleen had only _heard_ the kind of rage that Joker was capable of.

Tim cleared his throat and continued, "And no one can really seem to talk to him to ease any kind of animosity that he's shown in just the past few hours. The only thing that he repeats – is demanding to see you."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. I'll be there shortly. Thank you." Harleen blandly said as she hung up her phone.

A million and one thoughts invaded Harleens head. She was frightened, yet she was also intrigued. How could that be? So many feelings had overcome her lately. Feelings that were the complete opposite of each other – yet went together so well.

It was as if Jokers chaos and anarchy fueled Harleens imagination and devotion to him, and only him. Joker was Harleen's rapture – and she was falling far into his grasp.

Harleen just feared that if Joker were to ever get out of Arkham, whether it be because he was finally deemed sane by the Asylum, which is highly unlikely – or if he escapes – which Joker is notoriously known for…. Is would he even give a second glace at Harleen? Would he try to contact her? Would Joker… kill her? These silly questions haunted Harleen – when she very well knew that not only was she over thinking – but it was being very unprofessional. Harleen was still torn between what the Asylum and the law believed what was right, versus what she felt was right.

Was it wrong to feel the love for someone, who was deemed wrong by society?

Not even having the time to change her clothes, Harleen kept her signature black pencil skirt, and form fitting button-up dark green blouse on. But instead of her heels, she replaced them with flat black slip on shoes. Her feet were killing her – so the comfort of the flat shoes were like a sensational massage to her aching feet.

Rushing out of her apartment door, Harleen's panic alarm box and taser gun sat upon her kitchen table – forgotten.

* * *

 **ARKHAM ASYLUM**

What felt like hours, were only minutes to get to Arkham Asylum. Harleen felt that she couldn't get there quick enough – even accelerating over the speed limit in her sleek vehicle.

It was inevitably chilly tonight – as the night sky was finally mostly clear of the dark and heavy rain clouds. A white bright full moon was starting to emerge among the stars, and it was quite a beautiful sight over Gotham.

Racing inside of Arkham, Harleen went straight to the administrator's desk.

Not recognizing anyone, as she has never actually been to the Asylum after hours, she flashed her badge to a young man who didn't look like a normal dispatch – as he was more or so dressed as security. _'After hours must be tough.'_ Harleen thought.

"I'm Dr. Harleen Quinzel. I received a phone call from Tim Freeman."

"Ah, yes! Quinzel!" The young man cracked out just a little too enthusiastically. "The famous Quinzel, coming to the rescue! You got here fast." He said as he smiled.

His words didn't comfort Harleen one bit. In fact, she started to feel her nerves rise to the back of her throat as she wondered what could have possibly happened.

"Tim is right outside of Joker's holding cell. I'll show you to it." He gestured for Harleen to follow him down the hall.

"Holding cell? Why did you put him in there if you already drugged him?" Harleen couldn't help the worry that saturated her voice; truly concerned with Joker's condition.

"Precautions." The young man continued, "We apologize for calling you out at such an hour, but Joker seemed to have succeeded in breaking one interns arm, giving a guard a concussion, and then a nurse a bloody nose."

Harleen gasped, "All of this just happened within a few hours?!"

"Indeed." The young man confirmed. "Apparently it all started when the Joker asked for you when the nurse came in to give him his nightly meds. When she had claimed that you had gone home for the night – the nurse argued with him that she would not call for you. That nurse is suspended until further notice. We do not talk to our patients in such a manner. Especially one as violent as the Joker."

Harleen nodded in approval with the decision made in regards to the nurses' careless actions. It was as if the night crew had better heads on their shoulders than the day crew!

"Well," Harleen stuttered, "What does Joker want with me?"

Tim shrugged, "We don't know. He won't talk to anyone."

Harleen's feet were trying to keep up with her thoughts, as she tripped multiple times while walking beside the young administrator. She was more graceful in her heels, Harleen thought. Or maybe, so many emotions and nerves were drowning her ability to function correctly.

As the dark halls were slightly creepier than during the day, they made their way to the elevator where the florescent lights within, pierced Harleen's eyes as they stepped inside.

Harleen had never been to the holding cells. As these cells were only for the worst criminals in existence. The padded walls, and confinement would make any sane person insane. Harleen never understood why anyone would put someone down in those god-awful rooms. She believed that they did nothing, but only poured off a negativity that would only fuel bad situations to a breaking point.

Noticing that the young administrator had punched in the basement floor, Harleen inhaled deeply to calm whatever hurricane of emotions that swirled through her already tense body.

The elevator came to an abrupt stop, and the doors opened.

The dark hall smelled musty. The air seemed heavy, as Harleen was sure that the flow of oxygen was limited down here.

Trying to control her breathing, both Harleen and the young man stepped out of the elevator. It was almost like crossing a forbidden threshold that one would soon regret.

"Tim is right around that first right hand corner. He is at cell number 2240. Thank you again for coming in, Dr. Quinzel."

Harleen just stood there, blankly staring straight ahead of her, "Wait, I didn't get your –" But as she turned around, the young man as already gone, "Name." Harleen sighed.

Collecting what courage she had within her fatigued body, Harleen straightened her back, smoothed out her blouse, and brushed her long blonde hair with her fingers, ignoring the tangled mess.

Harleen continued to walk down the hall, only to pass numerous occupied holding cells. Harleen's morbid curiosity was starting to surface, as she really wanted to read some of the name plaques – as she knew that some of these patients were beyond help – and were simply kept here as prisoners. But thinking of where her troublesome curiosity had ended her up before, she thought twice about her detour.

Taking the first right hand corner, Harleen noticed a man in black pants and a white Doctors' coat - about in his early thirties, black shoulder length hair, green eyes, and fairly attractive. He was standing in front of cell 2240, with a clipboard in hand - while jotting down notes ferociously without even noticing Harleen coming to stand beside him.

Harleen squinted at his small gold name tag. 'Tim Freeman'.

Harleen politely cleared her throat, in hopes of gaining Tim's attention.

"Oh!" Tim looked startled, yet thankful to see her, "Doctor! It's an absolute pleasure to finally meet you in person!" Tim beamed, as he generously reached for Harleen's hand and roughly shook it, "I've heard so much about you! And your progress with the Joker – it's admiring! It also seems… you have made quite the impression with him as well, as he's been asking for you for hours."

"So I've heard."

"You're a bit…" Tim paused, "Shorter than I imagined. Please excuse my bluntness!"

Harleen raised her eyebrows and twisted her ankles out for Tim to see the flat shoes. "It's not my usual footwear – as many are probably used to seeing me in."

A coarse laugh escaped Tim's chest, "Well, I'm still questioning on how a small woman such as yourself could possibly handle the Joker… but then again, you're gorgeous! Even the Crime Lord of Gotham can see that for himself – I'm sure!"

Tim's words made Harleen feel uncomfortable. Sometimes, beauty was certainly a curse. Harleen wasn't always the looker. In fact, she was continuously made fun of in school. From junior high - to high school, she was bullied and tormented by her classmates for her lack of expensive clothing, her bottle cap glasses, and her blemished skin. Only when Harleen went into collage was when the opposite sex, and sometimes the same, started to really notice her. As Harleen started to grow a chest, develop curves, her skin smoothed out and balanced in color – and her hair started to come in thick and bright - is when she had never wished to be attractive when she was younger.

The extra attention to her beauty was distracting, and sometimes very irritating. It made some of her life choices and decisions very difficult. And even though Harleen had wished on multiple occasions that she were still that shy, and ugly duckling that she once was in high school… she had learned to be thankful - as many other woman would love to look the way she did.

It was her gift and her curse.

"May I?" Harleen asked Tim, as she gestured towards the small window on the cell door of 2240.

Tim stepped back, "Oh! Absolutely!"

Harleen stepped towards the cell door, noticing that only a small amount of light illuminated the inside of the white padded room. Harleen had to lift herself just a little – whilst standing on her tiptoes to get the full view inside of room 2240.

And there he was. Joker sat against the wall directly across from the door. Despite his brightly colored green hair, and his distinctive makeup stained face – he almost seemed to blend in with the room.

Joker sat with his back to the padded wall, his head tilted up – while he stared at the ceiling. His legs were crossed in front of him, while his arms were tightly contained in his usual straitjacket. He was as still as a rock.

"Jesus." Harleen spat, "Are you sure he's alive? How much of a tranquilizer did you give him?"

Tim could easily detect the strain in Harleen's voice and tried to reassure her, "We only gave him one dose. Honestly, I think he more or so calmed down when we informed him that you were on your way."

"Thank you, Mister Freeman, I can take it from here."

Tim exchanged a weary glance Harleen's way, "Are you sure you don't need security or myself in there with you? He is a very dangerous man, Doctor."

Irritated, Harleen chuckled, "I've been his Doctor for a while now. And if Joker wanted to kill me – he's already had plenty of chances."

Somewhat satisfied with Harleen's answer, Tim added, "Okay then. We will be just outside of the cell here. Just buzz your panic button if anything were to go wrong."

Harleen smiled at Tim, as he accessed the card-pad next to the cell door with a swipe of his access card. The door quietly unlocked – unlike the doors upstairs that Harleen was used to - the obnoxious buzzing that would announce the entire floor of your arrival.

Harleen quietly stepped into the small padded room, taking in Joker's form, which he still hadn't moved. Harleen reached down, as if she were to reach for something in her jacket pocket, but then suddenly realized that she forgot her coat at home – along with her panic button and taser gun.

A short moment of panic spread over her, but then Harleen re-played her own words in her head that she spoke only moments ago to Tim, _'If Joker wanted to kill me – he's already had plenty of chances.'_

She was right – at least Harleen _thought_ she was right. If Joker wanted to kill her, he would've done so already. But… that doesn't mean that he wouldn't _hurt_ her.

Shaking her head at the negative path her over thinking was starting to take, Harleen cautiously inched closer to Joker.

"Mister J?" Harleen lightly called out, almost emanating a whisper. "Are you okay, Mister J?"

The sound of Harleen's voice shook Joker out of his drugged trance. Joker slowly lowered his head, so that his eyes met hers.

Harleen was once again captivated by the stunning glow of his blue eyes. No matter how many times she had looked at him, Joker always seemed to capture Harleen's breath. Her heart fluttered, just simply knowing that they were in a room together again – alone once more.

"Ahhh, Harley Quinn! I'm glad you could make it, Kitten!" Joker's voice danced around Harleen's ears, sending chills down her spine as she inched even closer to him.

"I heard that you've been causing a little bit of a ruckus, Mister J." Harleen acknowledged as she tried to hide the butterflies that this man gave her. "What happened?"

Joker shook his head as the clasp of his tongue mimicked a noise of disapproval, " _Tisk Tisk Tisk_. Do _not_ question my motives, Doctor." A low grumble escaped Joker's lips, as he took in the sight of Harleen coming closer to him. Her makeup was slightly smeared, her clothes were looser than normal, and her hair hung wildly to the sides of her flushed face. Joker noticed these little changes, and it excited him.

Harleen felt Joker's eyes studying her, and that made her feel uncomfortable and flattered at the same time. _'What could he possibly be thinking?'_ She thought to herself.

Harleen slowly leaned over, still keeping her eyes on Joker, as he did her. Harleen took a spot next to Joker, sat down on the padded floor, and rested her back against the wall as he did.

"Heh." Harleen giggled, as she pressed her fingers into the padded flooring before her, "It's not so bad – the floor. I might be able to sleep on this."

Joker cracked a grin, "Oh, _Kitten_. I could think of _many_ different things to do with you on this floor - other than sleeping." Joker purred.

Harleen's cheeks flooded pink, as she raised her hand to her face – a poor attempt to hide her embarrassing reaction.

"So," Harleen continued, trying to change the subject, "What did you want with me Mister J? You've been asking for me?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Joker cooed, "I need you to take this jacket off of me. It's wretched."

Harleen was taken aback by Joker's request. Probably even more so when he had demanded a machine gun. Harleen blinked her eyes rapidly – almost as if she were hoping that would help her with an answer on what to do.

Joker leaned over to his side, inching closer to Harleen's face. His breath was sweet, and warm – exactly how she imprinted it into her head, "It would mean the _world_ to me, Doctor." His face lacked emotion; instead it was dead serious.

Harleen didn't blink, as she never lost eye contact with Joker. She then lowered her weary eyes to the rest of his body – noticing that Joker had no other restraints except for the straitjacket.

If she took his jacket off, Joker would be completely mobile. Even more mobile than when they were in the private session room just days before.

 _'He is drugged, so what harm could he really do?'_ A naïve thought, Harleen reminded herself. Joker _looked_ drugged, but then again, he could just be over-playing the part.

Though, Harleen needed Joker to trust her. She wasn't like the other Doctors here at Arkham, and she felt that she has connected with Joker on a level that no one has ever accomplished. So… what if she could push that trust even further?

"If you try anything, Mister J – I will have security in here within seconds! And I'm sure your punishment would be even more severe than this soft padded room, and a few good drugs! Ya hear me?"

Joker growled with approval, as his metallic teeth glistened when he smiled at her.

Harleen rolled to her knees, and hesitantly reached for Jokers back – almost waiting for his approval to touch him.

"It's alright, doll face." Joker joked, "I won't bite if you don't want me to."

Harleen then scooted directly next to Joker, so that her body made full contact against his side.

Joker closed his eyes, and enjoyed Harleen's warmth against his body. Something that he hasn't felt in a very long time. But what was it about this woman that brought out his deepest desires – that he once thought he had buried decades ago?

The sadistic thoughts of Harleen stabbing her worthless co-worker earlier today, brought on a strong and infatuating hunger that clawed at Joker's black heart. Because she had drew blood for _him_.

Fighting against the comfort that Joker felt with Harleen, she extended her arms around Joker and began to unlatch the buckles of his jacket.

One by one, the light _'click'_ confirmed every undone restraint, and Joker grew more and more anxious.

With the last strap undone, Harleen scooted slightly back so that Joker could wiggle his confinement off of his chest.

Still perched on her knees, Harleen carefully watched Joker as he took the jacket off – the only protection she had against him - as now… she was completely defenseless without her panic button or taser gun. She started to regret her decision as a mild fear rose to the pit of her stomach.

Joker tossed the jacket aside, only to expose the long sleeved black shirt that formed around his well-defined body. Joker stretched his arms out before him, and extended his fingers – trying to get the blood flow normal again. He then rolled his neck, as if to freshly stretch his muscles before he sharply turned to face Harleen.

Before she could even react, Joker placed a hand on her chest, and shoved Harleen backwards, so that she landed flat on her back on the thankfully padded floor. Her skirt rose up above her knees and her blouse became un-tucked as Harleen landed on her back. Joker climbed on top of her, pinning her body to his. His legs gave Harleen's no room to kick - and he had a tight, firm grip on both of her tiny wrists in one of his hands – which he brought up and over her head.

Joker's other hand, gently squeezed Harleen's face, making sure that she was staring straight into his deadly blue eyes.

Harleen for once thought that she couldn't completely read Joker's expression. And this terrified her. Harleen could only release tiny incoherent squeaks as she tried to struggle from Joker's constricting grip. It seemed as if the more that she struggled, the tighter his grip got, and it started to hurt.

"Shh, shh, shhhhh." Joker coaxed, as his index finger lifted from her chin and rested gently across her lips. "I'd hate to ruin that pretty little face of yours."

"You would do that to me, Mister J?" Harleen finally choked out. Harleen tried to show absolutely no fear. She didn't want Joker to think that she was afraid of him... though she wasn't, but her natural and defensive instincts sometimes responded for her.

"Don't give me a reason to, Kitten. Because I still find you simply intoxicating at times." Joker then sharply turned Harleen's face to the side, still keeping his firm hold on her jaw. He then closed his eyes and settled his nose onto Harleen's neck. Her pulse quickened, and Joker could feel it. Joker slowly inhaled Harleen's scent, moving closer to her lips.

 _'What was it about this troublesome woman?'_ Joker thought. Joker realized what he was doing, but he didn't want to fight it off just yet. He wanted to simply indulge in what he could at the moment.

A growl escaped Joker's mouth as he released his grip on her face. Harleen had practically froze, trying to think of how to get out of this situation herself - if Tim didn't notice what was going on by now.

Joker then clasped his free hand onto Harleen's bare thigh, and then slowly forced his body in between her legs, and pushing them outward. Harleen began to fill with panic… but also _pleasure_. She didn't know if she were enjoying this, or if she should fear for her life. All she knew was that she had stopped fighting back... on her own accord.

Joker's hand made it's way to her inner thigh, as he caressed her soft and sensitive flesh. His hand felt warm, soothing, and Harleen welcomed it.

A gush of air escaped Harleen's lungs that Joker could only interpret as pleasure. And that satisfied him.

Joker didn't want to care for this woman, but he was beginning to give in to his simple desires that burned within him.

He could tell that she was fighting with herself as well. A mad love. A forbidden love that could never work out. Harleen was trying to _'fix'_ him. He didn't need _fixing._

Growling out loud at his own battle in his head, Joker whispered, "People don't want to hear the truth because they don't want their illusions destroyed."

Harleen finally turned her head to look at Joker, only to see his face soften. For a moment, Harleen could see the man behind the Joker. He might hurt her, but she was confident that he wouldn't kill her. For now.

And with that, Harleen built up the strength in her legs, brought her knees to her chest, and kicked with all her might – sending Joker off of her, and back up against the wall.

With speed that Harleen didn't even know that she had, she whipped up to her feet, only to rush Joker - and crushed her eager lips to his.

That – when she had kissed him, Joker felt alive again, and his whole world became something different. It was heaven and hell, brought together in his head. His own secret world. And he would _burn_ there.

Joker gripped the back of Harleen's blouse, almost ripping it from her shoulders. Her fingers entwined through his brilliant green hair, as he growled and grunted with delight and satisfaction. Their kiss deepened with such a passion, that it would put every lustful sinner to shame.

Joker hated himself for liking it. He hated himself for giving in, even for this one little moment.

Harleen then saw her chance, and hesitantly released her mental bond with Joker, and bolted to the door. Harleen scanned her key card, and swung the door open. And within seconds, she was safely outside of cell 2240.

Joker walked up the small cell door window with a beaming smile stretched across his face, "So, Doctor! You _do_ have tricks up those sleeves! HA!"

Harleen stared at Joker for a moment, taking in what had just happened, and how exciting and passionate it was.

Tim suddenly appeared from behind Harleen, "I see things are good!"

Harleen jumped, and instantly looked down to hide her face – as she smoothed down her skirt and adjusted her ripped blouse. "Yes! Mister Freeman! Thank you for calling me, and, uh, have a good night." Harleen tried covering her mouth as her lips were stained a light red.

Tim squinted his eyes, trying to see Harleen's face, and wondering why she look so… messy?

"Oh!" Harleen added, "Um… You need to put Joker's jacket back on. Thanks."

And with that, Harleen quickly made her way to the exit.

Tim, looking baffled, glanced up at Joker, who peered through the cell door window. Joker waved a mocking hand at Tim, as Tim heavily sighed and wondered how in the world Joker got his straitjacket off.

Joker's menacing and hyena signature laugh echoed off of the Asylum walls.

* * *

Harleen hurried to her car, unlocked it, and plopped down inside and blankly stared ahead of her without starting the vehicle.

Joker wanted to hurt her, but he didn't. And that kiss… that kiss was like a silent bond to Harleen. But what was it to him? Harleen wondered, her thoughts spinning out of control as she could still taste Joker that laced her lips.

Harleen was playing with fire… but the fire was already burning too far out of control for her to put it out.

As she finally started her car, Harleen began to drive back to her apartment. Only this time, she did notice the familiar black van starting to follow her.

Harleen didn't care, and she knew, that whether Joker cared for her or not – she was certain of one thing… he was definitely curious about her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:**

 **So sorry for the delay! This is actually a shorter chapter than usual, but I really wanted to give you a glimpse inside of Joker's head - since we all don't fully know what he's been thinking.**

 **And as a side note to those who have been asking - Yes, this is rated M - and there will be smut!**

 **Anyway, I promise chapters A LOT sooner! Please review! Your reviews really do fuel my imagination! I hope you enjoy!**

 **CHAPTER 11**

Joker sat in the holding cell jacketless that night. Tim thought there was no harm in leaving his jacket off – considering that Joker was on the top secured floor of the Asylum… or possibly the night crew just didn't want to deal with any kind of trouble that Joker might stir up while trying to put his jacket back on.

Joker secretly appreciated that, as that straitjacket was constricting, hot, and numbing to his arms. Entirely uncomfortable – as Joker was not used to such restriction of freedom - to simply move around his limbs.

Arkham Asylum was quiet at this time of the night, and Joker hated it. He was used to his city. Gotham always had some form of commotion to rattle up the night.

Joker wasn't one for much sleep. Since his exposure to the chemicals that changed his life, the accidental bath not only bleached his skin, but also changed some aspects of his DNA. Involuntarily consuming the deadly liquids, Joker's body required less sleep than a normal human being. What should have killed him, only made him that much more. Joker's immunity was a mystery to science - and he'd like to keep it that way.

That's what kept the fine line in tact - between his humanity, and his animalistic capabilities. The sheer fact that just one bad day could make you see the world in a clearer perspective.

Joker lightly growled under his breath, just to break the unsettling silence. He was also anxious to get out of this dump. Now that his men had found what he was looking for, Joker was now waiting on Harleen.

Joker needed that little push of help from someone who worked at the Asylum. In the past, when he was captured many other times, he'd usually just pay off some greedy Doctor or high level surveillance guard – and that would grant him access to all of the security pass-codes that he needed in order to bring Arkham down for at least thirty-six hours. But this time, he wanted to play his cards differently. The greed of humanity was no longer fun to him.

Joker's original plan was to manipulate someone, bend them to his will. Joker wanted to see what kind of power he had really possessed. Though… he never, in his wildest dreams, would think that he would truly get wrapped up and played with - in his own game.

 _'That cleaver little Minx.'_ Joker thought to himself - the image of Harleen pressing against his lips, and then sliding away from him when he had given in to her. Joker had never had anyone escape from him. _Ever._

Joker remembered her taste – the faint flavor of strawberries and honey. He traced his grill with his tongue, only bashing himself for wanting more.

 _His Harley. His Harley Quinn_ … and yet, Joker flinched every time he caught himself noting her as _HIS_ Harley Quinn. Joker didn't even realize the full possessiveness that he had developed for Harley. Even the simple thought of that poor hunk of flesh, Channing, had put his hands on her – made Joker flare with anger. He wanted to shoot something. Preferably Channing. Unload every single deadly bullet into that bastard.

Though, he couldn't have this woman take over his thoughts. He needed to get rid of her… but then again, Joker could see the same animalistic qualities within Harley. Her eyes spoke louder than her words. It was almost as if she had a hidden alter-reality, another personality that she has kept dormant without even knowing.

Joker wanted to release her. And that is exactly what he planned on doing.

 **GOTHAM CITY**

 **FRIDAY**

 **DAY OF THE GALA BENEFIT PARTY**

It was a bright and sunny day in Gotham City. The cool crisp morning air still lingered as 9:28AM rolled around.

Harleen was already up and walking the busy downtown shopping centers of Gotham's outdoor strip mall. She had already visited her favorite coffee shop, sucking down the warm and much needed liquid. She couldn't sleep much – as the Gala Party was pinching at her brain, along with her personal thoughts of Joker.

Yesterday's session with him was quite the entertainment for her. At first, Harleen felt a mild awkwardness seeing him again, as she had just flung herself upon him the night before, in his holding cell – only to partially reveal her true feelings for him when she had stopped fighting his violation of her, and crushed her lips against his. Or maybe... Joker could have assumed that it was all part of her plan - to make it out of his cell with no trouble caused. Whatever Joker thought, it made Harleen over think.

Harleen slowed her pace, and gently touched her lips at the memory of Joker's kiss. People continued to walk around her, ignoring the weird lady stopping to touch her lips and continue to look dazed as she thought of yesterday's session.

 _'Dr. Quinzel, are you sure you don't need any kind of security?' An Arkham Guard asked her, looking at her as if she were the mad one._

 _"Yes, I don't need any other distractions for my patient, as he's been obviously distressed lately."_

 _The guard chuckled at her, "Lady, not to be an ass, but this guy just took out two of my men just now. What makes you so special? Are you really the Batman?" The guard threw back his head in laughter at his own little unworthy joke._

 _Harleen kept a straight face, glaring at the nuisance guard. "I don't want to ask you again. You've done enough damage as it is. Thank you, and that will be all."_

 _Harleen's voice was full of throaty authority that even the guard was taken back by her sudden change in disposition._

 _Harleen entered the regular session room that her and Joker have spent most of their moments in._

 _Joker grinned as Harleen approached him. Taking in her beautiful figure, as she stood up straighter now – taller, and with more confidence. Her heels clicked loud and hard against the floor, as if she had a purpose and goal - and she was going to accomplish that goal under any circumstance._

 _Joker kept his piercing eyes on her, as Harleen walked behind Joker and started to unlatch his straitjacket._

 _Joker's brows raised in confusion, and his chest burned with curiosity. Did this woman have a death wish? Did she not just hear what he had done only moments ago?_

 _Harleen's actions were just as unpredictable as Joker's… and he was starting to get off on that._

 _After unbuckling Joker's jacket, and releasing him from his ankle restraints, Harleen casually sat down at their usual cold and silver steel table – as if she were visiting an old friend._

 _She wasn't scared of him. Even the Arkham guards always kept a wistful and watchful eye on him. No one, not even his lead henchman, Jonny Frost kept such a tamed composure around him as Harleen did at this very moment._

 _Goddamnit. Yet another simple yet fascinating action this woman has bestowed upon him – Joker thought._

 _"Don't worry, Mister J." Harleen started to reassure, "The guards won't be bothering you anymore. No more late night disturbances, or even punishments. They've got to go through me first. I've got full access to you and your well being. Also, I've taken you off all of your meds. Such garbage they give you." She shook her head and started to scribble something down on the papers in front of her._

 _Joker cocked his head to the side, as if trying to understand what and why Harleen had just done for him. 'This woman is going to be the death of me.' He thought._

 _"Lose your nerve, Doc?" Joker mocked, as he hastily tossed his jacket to the side._

 _Harleen stopped writing in her notes, "How so?"_

 _"Usually Doctors like to dope me up with drugs. Thinking that I'm crazy. Do you think I'm crazy, Doc?"_

 _"Not at all."_

 _Joker's eyes formed into small slits as he studied the woman before him. In all honesty, he really didn't know how to act nor answer to this treatment. He has thought of killing her on many occasions – even fantasized about it… but in this moment, Joker couldn't stand even the thought of her cold and lifeless body. Harleen brought such fire, such passion, and such a wanting desire within him – she could entertain him for hours… for days, and Joker would still find something new and fascinating about her._

 _If he wanted to, Joker could have been out of Arkham sooner – but he stalled himself to see if his Harley Quinn had it in her. Joker wanted to finish what he had created._

 _Suddenly, Joker noticed Harleen's eyes trail a little lower on his face. Usually she kept his gaze, but this time… she was a little more distracted._

 _Harleen couldn't help herself. She unknowingly trailed her eyes to Joker's lips… remembering that passionate kiss just last night – how even he gave into the sudden urge that she knew he had also felt. She wondered if Joker thought about their kiss too… Harleen didn't dare ask him, as she was scared of what his answer might be. The only thing that now frightened her about Joker – was being denied. Abandoned._

 _Harleen didn't understand her feelings herself, but all she knew was that she didn't want to fight them anymore. She has been fighting all of her life. And so what if she fell for a murderous Clown that possibly didn't feel the same about her? Who cares if it was deemed wrong by anyone who watched from the outside? Harleen didn't care what others thought of her anymore. Even when Angie had come to her not too long ago to express her worry for Harleen's intense interest in Joker, Harleen shunned her off with a simple glare._

 _Harleen suddenly shook her head, trying to clear her focus without Joker noticing the kind of distraction that he now possessed over her… but he thoroughly notices. He thoroughly notices everything that she does, says, and even the way she moves. The kind of sweet obsession that he has developed for her, disgusted him._

 _Harleen met Joker's eyes once again, only to notice him staring at her intently, possibly lost in his own thoughts as she was. "Having fun yet, Mister J?"_

 _Joker suddenly jumped up from his seat, and plotted himself on top of the steel table as he crossed his legs and leaned toward Harleen. Joker waited to see any kind of fear or nervousness that she would express, only to confirm that she was in fact, scared of him. Then it would satisfy his reckless thinking that Harleen might be different._

 _Instead, Harleen let the cutest, high-pitched giggle escape her lungs. A truly genuine and menacing giggle that baffled Joker even more. Her laugh was like a lullaby to his ears. There was no fear in those eyes of hers, no stiffened body posture… nothing. Joker was starting to deflate under her spell. 'Damn her once again.' He cursed himself._

 _"You're cute, Mister J." Harleen giggled. She couldn't help herself._

 _Joker cracked a grin… he also couldn't help himself – especially with this overly desirable little minx sitting in front of him, was giggling in delight - while in a secured room, alone with him, while he had absolutely no restraints. This had to be one of Joker's top most entertaining moments of his life… maybe even up there on his list with the Bat._

 _Harleen didn't want to hold back anymore than she already has – as she wanted to be herself around Joker. She wasn't thinking like a Psychiatrist… but simply just a woman in love._

 _"So," Joker coaxed as he leaned in even closer to Harleen's dazzling face, "Are you going to help me out of this joint, Pumpkin? Or must I do it myself?"_

 _Harleen stopped giggling, as her face turned serious, but almost sad, "You're leaving, Mister J?"_

 _"I asked for a machine gun. Where is it?"_

 _Harleen blinked a few times to try to regain her composure. "But… what if Batman finds you again?"_

 _Joker threw his head back and laughed so loud, that even a guard opened the door to make sure everything was alright. The guard was more stunned by the image of Joker completely free of his restraints and with Harleen just casually sitting in her chair talking with him – rather than the glares that the guard received from both Joker and Harleen._

 _The Arkham guard took that as everything was under control, and quietly left the room._

 _"Do you really think that I accidentally got caught?" Joker asked amused._

 _"Well, I-I –" Harleen stumbled over her words, as she didn't want to insult Joker by assuming that he really did get captured by Batman._

 _"I needed something here." Joker confessed. "Now that I have what I want, I need out. The only thing that Bat can possibly do – is delay my plans."_

 _"So, why don't you kill him?"_

 _Joker heaved even louder with laughter this time, "Kill the Bat? And how would you kill the Bat, Miss Quinzel?"_

 _"Okay…" Harleen turned even more serious and leaned in towards Joker as if to tell him a secret, "We're gonna need a lot – and I mean A LOT of peanut butter."_

 _Joker slowly moved out and away to fully intake Harleen's face. Harleen slowly emerged a smile, and then soon erupted into tiny hyena-pitched laughter that sent a thrill through Joker._

 _Joker dropped his jaw in amusement, only to chime in on Harleen's laughter. She had jokes._

Harleen was suddenly snapped out of her memories from yesterday, as a young man bumped into her, and almost knocking her latte out of her hands.

"Oh, my god! I'm sorry, Miss!" The young gentleman grabbed Harleen by the shoulders to stable her balance.

Harleen giggles, "Thank you, Mister."

"Really! I really do apologize, Miss! I should have watched where I was going."

"It's quite okay." Harleen replied.

After straightening her purple tank top, and brushing off her black jeans of the small droplets of coffee that did spill, she finally looked up to meet a pair of gentle dark blue eyes. Not like Joker's menacing bright and endless crystal blue eyes that she was used to, but these eyes had a spark of ambition to them.

He stood just a little taller than Harleen, considering she was wearing black knee-high heeled boots; this man was fairly tall. His jet-black hair hung ever so slightly in his face, and he gently smiled at her. He wore black slacks, with a black stretchy track jacket with a light blue stripe that shot across his defined chest to accent the different shades of black that he sported.

He was fairly attractive, and when Harleen looked up at him, he was instantly captivated by her beauty.

As if a little too desperate, he extended his hand out, "My name is Dick Grayson. And you are?"

Harleen forced a smile, "Harleen. Harleen Quinzel. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Grayson."

"Please, call me, Dick."

Harleen spat a giggle, and then was suddenly embarrassed by her child-like attitude. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Dick raise his hand to stop her and laughed, "It is quite okay, I know how it sounds sometimes."

They both exchanged a foreign laugh – Harleen thought her laugh to be substantially forced, nothing like when she truly laughed with Joker.

"Wait." Dick squinted while pointing a finger at her, "You're that Arkham Doctor that's treating the Joker, right?"

Dick sounded a little too excited, and it instantly made Harleen feel uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, Dick. But I must be going." Harleen started to walk away, but Dick annoyingly followed.

"I'm sorry, Harleen. I didn't mean to offend you in any way."

Harleen abruptly stopped and lowered her voice, "Listen, being a Doctor in Arkham is definitely something that you don't want the world to know. Especially my current work. It's dangerous for certain people to know what I do."

Dick put both of his hands up in surrender, "I'm sorry! Really! I didn't mean any harm. I'm just really impressed with your work and how I've heard so much about your progress with such a disturbed individual."

"He is _NOT_ disturbed." Harleen snapped.

"And protective over her patient as well." Dick smiled. "I like that."

Harleen closed her mouth, and inhaled deeply. "Well, thank you for your kind words."

"Would you like to get a drink or dinner sometime?"

Harleen raised her eyebrows, clearly amused, "Are you seriously asking me out?"

Dick shuffled his feet, and ran his hand behind his neck, "Well, no, but – I mean… Yes."

Harleen couldn't help but to giggle at Dick's poor attempts. Yes, he was cute. Really cute. And maybe, on any other given day – Harleen would have possibly accepted his offer. But not now. Harleen felt devoted to someone else. She knew that she shouldn't feel that way, but she did.

"Listen, thank you for offering, but –" Harleen replied.

Dick cut her off, "Awwww you have a boyfriend? You're married?" Dick's eyes lowered to her hand as if to try to get a glimpse of a ring.

"No, I'm not married – and I'm not seeing anyone. It's just, I don't know… it's –" Harleen couldn't find the words, and she instantly felt like an idiot.

"So I _do_ have a chance." Dick smiled.

Harleen couldn't help but to be somewhat entertained by his charm, but it still didn't do anything for her. "I'll see you around, Dick." Harleen said as she looked down to the ground and continued walking.

Dick grabbed her hand and shoved a card in her hand, "I sure hope so, Harleen." He gave a dazzling smile and then winked at her – as he turned around and proceeded on his way - disappearing as the crowd swallowed him.

Harleen slowly moved the card up to her face. The card only read of a phone number. No name, no business, nothing. Just a phone number.

Not thinking much of it, Harleen stuffed it into her back jean pocket and continued to make her way to a clothing shop that she hadn't entered in years.

She had come out to go shopping for a reason… she needed a dress for tonight's Gala Party. The only dress that she had, was the skimpy little black dress that she wore to the Jester Kane. No way in hell would she wear that to a formal party… especially with all of her male co-workers being there, and… Flimmel. Harleen made a gagging face at the thought of actually going to tonight's party and standing beside that vile man. She wouldn't even touch him, Harleen thought. Not even hold his arm. It would repulse her.

The thought then creeped into her mind – what if Channing was attending? That could possibly have consequences.

 _'Screw it.'_ She thought. _'I'm doing this for Joker – and I'm not afraid of such a simple and degrading man like Channing.'_

And with that bold and encouraging thought, Harleen stepped inside of the shop to buy an elegant dress for the Gala Party tonight.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

Harleen stood in front of her full length mirror admiring the dress that she had bought earlier this morning. The long gown flowed like a waterfall of gold over every curve of her body. The gold sparkle with a tint of silver - the dress would've blinded any who would stare for too long. The front slit ran all the way up to just below her hip, exposing one of her long, and defined legs. Though most of her back was exposed, the strapless top of the dress didn't reveal too much, as it more or so caressed around her full breasts to hold them up - giving her the image of a Greek Goddess in human form.

Her hair dangled freely around her face, but ended in fun and bouncy curls. The smokey eye shadow once again enhanced her stunning blue eyes, while her nude colored lipstick gave the accent of innocence.

Harleen wasn't the one to bask in her looks, as she knew that there were a lot of other beautiful women in Gotham - and she considered herself in no comparison. But tonight, Harleen thought that she could pass as royalty. Almost good enough to stand by the side of a King... maybe the King of Gotham. The Clown King of Crime... Joker.

Joker pierced her thoughts again. Something that happened far too often throughout her days. Harleen thought of her short afternoon shift at Arkham earlier.

 _"No, there is no session today, Mister J." Harleen explained to Joker as he sat jacketless once again in his new cell._

 _Since Harleen had requested Joker off all of his meds, and no straitjacket - the Asylum staff moved him to a cell where they could keep better watch over the Clown. The cell was just as small as his last, completely the same on the inside... except for the one wall that was replaced with bullet-proof glass - so that Joker may see outside, and others inside. And of course, a special request by Harleen herself... to provide Joker at least a television to keep him a bit more occupied. She could tell that he was getting fidgety when cooped up in his tiny cell, with limited exercise time._

 _Arkham agreed to the request, but with the requirement that the television be located outside of his cell. Clearly seen, and loud enough to hear behind the glass. Only providing him with a remote control - which was risky enough in the staff's eyes._

 _Harleen stood before the big glass wall, only inches from Joker, yet the glass between them made it feel so far away._

 _"Harley." Joker coaxed as he stood before Harleen, considerably taller than her - since she wasn't wearing her normal footwear. Though her black knee-high heeled boots bounced her up a little in height, Joker always seemed to stand over her. "Why is there no session? You know that I look forward to those with you."_

 _Harleen looked down, and bit her bottom lip, "Business meeting with Arkham employees. Mandatory. I'll be leaving shortly."_

 _"Don't lie to me Harley-girl. And look at me when I'm talking to you." Joker's voice seeped with authority. He planted one of his hands flat on the glass, leaning his weight into it - lowering his head so that his hungry eyes met hers. He knew that she was lying to him. She wasn't a very good liar - she had always did the same thing when she wasn't telling the truth. Halreen wouldn't make eye contact, and she would hastily bite her lip... why did she have to be so tempting?! Joker fought off the other thoughts that possessed his mind. She was such an interesting and beautiful creature. Stubborn, but beautiful. He wanted to choke the life out of her.  
_

 _"I'm not going to ask again." A low growl heavily erupted through Joker's chest. "Where. Are. You going?"_

 _"The Gala Benefit Party for the Asylum." Harleen blurted out. Even she was shocked at how her body just reacted to Joker's demand._

 _"No you're not."_

 _"Excuse me?"_

 _"I said that I don't like to repeat myself."_

 _Harleen just stood there, staring at Joker, as he stared just as intently back._

 _They both stood there keeping eye contact, not moving for god knows how long._

 _Harleen was trying to read Joker's face - especially questioning his demand._

 _"And why not?" Harleen finally spat._

 _"As I've said before, Kitten - do not question my motives." Joker finally lowered his hand from the glass and slowly turned around whilst rolling his neck. Something Harleen noticed that he did when he was frustrated. But why was he frustrated?_

 _"You can't tell me what to do, Mister J. And besides, it's funding for Arkham! I'm required to make-"_

 _Before Harleen could finish, Joker had spun around so quickly, that her own eyes didn't even register how fast he really did move._ _Both of Joker's hands slammed hard against the thick glass, that even the wall protested under the pressure. Harleen jumped back, but instantly corrected her defensive instincts, and stepped right back up to the glass - standing her ground._

 _Joker's eyes turned wild and darker than usual. His heavy breathing made his dark blue sweats and sweater look a tad too tight now, as he heaved his chest up and down with every heavy breath that he took. He was angry._

 _"I told you that you are not going, Harley. Now don't disappoint Daddy." Joker started grinding his grill together, as if he were to launch at Harleen if he could._

 _"I'm not scared of you." Harleen spat boldly._

 _Harleen didn't give Joker another chance to speak - and she instantly stormed off after that, without looking back._

 _'Ooohhh Harley-girl. You don't know how angry you make Daddy.' Joker slammed both of his hands against the glass that held back his freedom._ _He then leaned back, and crackled the most menacing and guttural laugh that echoed throughout the Asylum halls - piercing Harleen's ears as she proceeded to leave._

 **KNOCK KNOCK**

The knocking on Harleen's apartment door rattled her out of her thoughts. She shook her head and regained her composure. _'That must be the driver coming to pick me up for the Gala Party.'_ she thought.

Walking to her door, and peering through the peep-hole, a gentleman in a slick black suit stood there patiently waiting - reassuring Harleen that it was the driver.

She opened the door, "Sir, I'm almost ready, I'll be right down. I-"

The man raised his hand to stop her mid-sentence. When this man raised his hand, Harleen caught a glimpse of a gun in a holster under his black blazer. Harleen froze.

"You're not a driver, are you, Mister." Harleen swallowed hard. She began to look around - searching for a weapon that she could run to, to defend herself. Even if he had a gun, she wasn't going to go down without a fight this time.

The man stepped inside of her apartment and closed the door. He was tall, stout, dark hair, dark eyes, and a mild stubble beard.

"No need to be on edge, Miss Quinn. I only come here as a messenger."

"Who sent you?"

"The name is Frost. And I come here on behalf of Joker."

He didn't even extend his hand out to shake hers, instead he stood completely still with both of his hands cupped in one another at his waist.

Harleen relaxed a little. Though, what if Joker finally wanted to get rid of her? She did dare to defy him earlier.

"I've heard of you." Harleen squinted, while studying Frost. "Jonny. Jonny Frost. Joker's notorious and most trusted henchman. Impressive."

Frost looked at Harleen with a spark of confusion. This woman wasn't afraid, nor nervous. She was... impressed?

"No wonder he has taken to you." Frost replied. "But I've come here to warn you. You've made Boss quite angry - and I strongly advise that you do not attend tonight's party."

"Why doesn't Mister J want me to attend this party so bad?" Harleen was insanely curious now. Joker shouldn't have sent his main comrade just to warn her. It now fed her desire to know even more of why he didn't want her to go... and yet, she found herself wanting to attend this party even more so. It was certainly catching Joker's attention. And she _liked_ it.

"I'm just here to warn you, Miss Quinn. Pissing Boss off is something that you just don't want to do."

"He's locked up in an Asylum, what harm can he do?"

" _I'm_ here, aren't I?"

Harleen glared at him, understanding what Frost meant by with him being there. If Joker wanted anyone dead, all he would have to do was snap his fingers from inside of a locked cell in that grimy Asylum, and he could have someone dead anywhere in the city. "You're right. But I know that Mister J won't kill me. He would have a long time ago if he wanted to."

"Well, Boss said that you were a defiant one - actually, he expected you to go to the party. He had just hoped I could coax you differently."  
Frost continued, "So he wanted me to give you this."

Frost handed Harleen a small black velvet box. Harleen shook the box and looked up confused, "What is this?"

Frost then nodded his head forward, and dipped an ever so slight bow towards Harleen, "You have a wonderful evening, Miss Quinn. Try to stay out of trouble."

 _'Is that what Joker thought of her? As trouble? Oh, I can show you trouble.'_ Harleen thought to herself.

"A pleasure to meet you, Frost." Harleen said as she closed the door behind him, and leaning her back against the door.

Just then, another knock startled her, as Harleen whipped around - and swung the door open, "Now what?!"

"Uh, sorry to disturb you, ma'am. But your car is here." A young boy - probably only around the age of twenty-one, stuttered over his words as this stunning beauty in a skin tight gold dress spat at him with such attitude, that it would be considered sexy to most.

"Oh, geez. I'm terribly sorry. I thought you were someone else." Harleen put her hand on his shoulder to comfort the young guy, but a dumbfounded smile greeted her - as a result of her simply laying her hand on him.

He was a goofy young boy, probably never had a date in his life - and the sight of Harleen excited him as he foolishly giggled.

Harleen pressed her lips together and instantly retracted her hand. "I'll be right out, I'm just grabbing my shoes. You may wait downstairs."

"Take your time, Miss!" The boy lingered for a minute, almost hoping to catch more of Harleen as she turned around.

As the boy left, Harleen examined the box. Harleen should know better than to open a mysterious box from the infamous Joker... but her infatuation drove her crazy.

Harleen gripped the top of the box, and slowly opened it... only to reveal a stunning, and dazzling sight that she had only seen either on the television, or in a museum.

The diamond necklace sparkled back at her, almost as if it smiled at her stunned face. The deep silver jewels danced in the little light that illuminated the apartment. Harleen dropped the box to her feet, her jaw dropped, as she held the stunning necklace up with both of her hands to examine it, in its full and splendid glory.

The damn thing would cover her entire neck! It was more of a choker than a necklace.

Finally lowering the jewels, Harleen rested it onto her chest, and over her heart. Though Harleen was never the one to be won with material objects, no one had ever made such a gesture, gave such a gift, never had anyone lavished her with anything that expressed that they... cared.

Harleen gripped the jewels. She couldn't accept such a gift.

Looking at the choker necklace again, Harleen's thoughts got the best of her. _'Well... Joker will probably be having his men watching her, therefore, all details do get back to him. She would hate to insult him by not wearing it. Only to the party... and then I'll give it back.'_

Putting on the choker necklace, it gave Harleen a whole new aura. She was dazzling, like royalty. Fitting for a Queen - to a King of Gotham. Like Joker.

Harleen picked up the velvet black box that she had dropped, only to have a small piece of paper trail out of it, and back to the floor.

Harleen cocked her head, and keeled down to pick up the ominous paper - only to notice the short note scribbled upon it:

 ** _Enjoy my gift, but no other can._**  
 ** _Stay out of trouble._**  
 ** _\- J_**

 _Trouble._ Harleen huffed at the word.

Harleen then quickly slipped her nude colored heels on, grabbed her black clutch purse, and ran out of her apartment door.

This was already proving to be an entertaining night - and the party hasn't even started yet.

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY HALL**

 **GALA BENEFIT PARTY**

Harleen stepped out of the black limo into the chilling Gotham night air. She then wished she would have brought a jacket - but she had nothing that would match her elegant dress.

Shaking off the cold, Harleen stood up straight, and then proceeded into the massive Gotham City Hall. The pillars before the entrance seemed to beckon for one to come in. A very welcoming, yet intimidating sight - as some of the most powerful people in Gotham spend their time in this vast building.

It was quite funny to Harleen - that she was entering the Gotham City Hall, as Joker had destroyed this building a while back. And yet here she was,  
dressed to bring down any man to his knees, in love with a mad man, and showing off the most prized piece of jewels that came from the Clown himself.  
It was almost poetic in a way.

Suddenly, a flood of voices cried out her name.

"Harleen? Doctor Harleen Quinzel? Is that you? It's Gotham National News! Do you have a moment?"

Harleen sighed, of course the press would be here. She hated the press. Such one-sided and corrupted organizations.

Harleen tried to speed-walk up the few steps, and past the group of reporters who desperately tried to shove a mic in her face - as the City Hall security kept them at bay.

"Is it true that the Joker is really an insane lunatic, and that you care for him more than you should, Quinzel?!"

The man's question triggered something within Harleen that she didn't fully understand. Without hesitation, she spun around to face the ignorant reporter.

Satisfied that his question had caught Harleen's attention, the reporter flashed a smug smile, and then continued to push his luck, "So it's true then? The infamous Joker is really just a poor excuse of a man with an incredibly hot Doctor." And with that, the reporter stuffed the thick microphone in Harleen's face, and waited for her response.

Harleen's nostrils flared, and her eyes turned cold. Without thinking - or any self control, and acting purely on instinct - Harleen flattened out her hand,  
and aimed her palm to the top of the mic. Harleen violently pushed with all her arm could throw into the microphone, sending it crushing with a blunt force straight into the reporter's face. Hearing the loud CRACK from his nose, blood instantly started to pour from it.

"You Bitch!" The report yelled, as he lunged for Harleen.

Harleen slightly bent her knees, reinforcing herself for a fight. Even in her dress. But security caught the reporter, swinging the young man around like a dog toy, demanding that he leave.

"I'll press charges!" The reporter yelled.

Harleen didn't know what came over her, but all she saw was a target. She went to go in for a fight, until a small hand gripped her arm, and held her back.

Thankfully, Harleen spun around before she balled up her fists, ready to hit the next person who stood in her way of her target. Angie had a cracked smile upon her face as she yelled back at the reporter, "Yeah, you press charges, Mister! Insulting a young woman to get her to talk to you! Yeah, real professional!"

The reporter just slapped the air in front of him in defeat, and tended to his broken nose.

"Wow, Harleen! Good shot! I didn't know you had it in ya!" Angie expressed.

Harleen couldn't help it, and she let out a bletch of tiny giggles that surprised Angie.

"I didn't know that I had it in me either. I don't know what came over me." Harleen admitted.

"Well," Angie continued, "You looked amazing doing it."

Harleen smiled back at Angie. She really did like her... just sometimes, Angie could be a thorn in her side. But all in all, she was a good lady to her.

"By the way, Harleen... where did you get those stunning jewels? Are they real? They can't be real."

Harleen rolled her eyes confirming her last thought. Angie really could not, not ask questions. A thorn in her side.

"A friend." Harleen responded.

"Oh, my god! So they _ARE_ real? Who's your friend? Is he single? Your friend is a guy, right?"

Harleen giggled again while shaking her head and ignoring Angie's questions. "Shall we?" Harleen gestured towards the entrance of the City Hall.

Angie spun in her long black dress, and gave Harleen a low bow. "We shall!"

Stepping inside of the massive building structure, men with, and without dates stopped to admire Harleen's elegant beauty. Even women were put under her spell. It was as if the atmosphere molded to Harleen's every move. She really now felt like a Queen. She held her head up high, and walked with confidence. Something that she hasn't done in a very long time.

The dimly lit circular room was quite the sight for sore eyes. The massive crystal chandelier that hung in the middle of the room - glowed a faint blue. Surrounding the already overly-done chandelier, were smaller ones that glowed a faint red. The lights danced off of these amazing lighting fixtures, giving the atmosphere a dreamy feel and look to it - as if you stepped into a fantasy castle, and tonight was Cinderella's ball.

Tables filled half of the massive room - covered in white satin table clothes, and decorated with vines of numerous flowers and crystal vases that held flickering candles.

A stage and dance floor took the other half of the place - the smooth music of the live band ensured a calm and tranquil mood.

It seemed like there were endless tables of different foods and alcoholic beverages. Harleen hadn't seen anything like this before. The Jester Kane had a completely different vibe to it. The Jester Kane was rich folks trying to have fun. Here - it was rich folks... being rich.

Angie met Harleen's side, "You do know that entire incident was caught on camera, right? You super star, you." Angie giggled.

Harleen stopped at the thought of Joker having a television in his cell now. He was sure to be watching the live feed.

Harleen brought her hand to her forehead in frustration. How could she be so stupid?

"What was caught on camera? Did I miss something?"

A familiar voice came up from behind Harleen, yet she couldn't place it. She turned around to meet those same deep blue eyes that she had ran into earlier that day.

"Well now, Mister Grayson. If I wasn't mistaken, I'd think that you're following me." Harleen laughed, and couldn't help but to smile at his presence.

"And who is _THIS_? Harleen, is this your _friend_?" Angie almost glided right over Harleen to extend her arm out to shake Dick's hand.

"You've already been talking about me, Harleen?" Dick grinned, almost cocky.

"N-no. Angie, this is not the person who got me, um... my _thing_." Harleen tried brushing off her stuttering, but couldn't think of anything else to say to hide her already dark secrets.

"I don't care." Angie said, "He's very handsome. You're holding out on me, Harleen."

Dick did look very handsome. Instead of an everyday track jacket - Dick was now dressed in a striking black suit with a dark blue undershirt. The suit fit his well defined body just right. Just enough to see how well formed and athletic this man's body really was. Probably custom fitted. Harleen should have known when she crossed paths with him this morning. Only rich and cocky men had the guts to approach her... which she hated.

"I see that you're always wearing black and blue." Harleen expressed. "Favorite colors?"

Dick turned his head slightly to the side as if to study Harleen himself, "You're observant, Doctor. I don't know if I should be flattered or intimidated."

Harleen pierced her lips, "I'm sorry for being nosy, but what are you exactly doing here? I just find it kind of awkward how we run into one another the same day you show up to a private party that I'm attending."

Dick chuckled. It was a gentle chuckle - nothing like Joker's menacing and deep laugh. "I work with Bruce Wayne. I help with the finances of Wayne Enterprises. Therefore, I help with the funding of Arkham Asylum. So in other words.. I'm like... kind of your boss, Harleen."

Dick flashed his white teeth in a purposely goofy smile.

Harleen erupted into her high pitched giggles, and then soon busted into a teasing, yet sharpened laugh. It was almost arousing to Dick.

"That laugh of yours, Harleen." Dick expressed, "It's adorable."

"OOOKAY!" Angie cried out, "Time for me to hit the food and drinks. You guys want anything?"

"Vodka. Straight." Harleen replied.

Angie raised her eyebrows, "A new Harleen has emerged from the Phoenix's ashes!"

As Angie walked off to retrieve her drink, Dick continued to stare at Harleen.

"Ya know, your staring is making me uncomfortable." Harleen said, noticing Dick's eyes wandering below her face.

"I'm sorry, you just look amazing tonight. Stunning jewels."

"A friend got them for me."

"Must be a special friend."

"Well, as I tried to tell you earlier, it's complicated."

"I understand."

"No, you don't."

"That bad, huh?"

"Kind of. I mean, No."

"That bad."

Harleen gritted her teeth and inhaled deeply. "Ya know, Mister - you're a feisty one."

"So are you."

"Do you have anything else to say other than a smart ass remark?"

"Actually, I thought I was being quite charming." Dick flashed Harleen a big smile that was meant to be sarcastic.

"I'm watching you, Mister Grayson."

"I can say the same about you."

"You are truly... truly a sarcastic ass with a hint of charm." Harleen laughed.

"You know, you're probably right!" Dick chimed in on Harleen's laughter.

Suddenly, it was as if the crowd shifted towards the entrance of the City Hall.

"Ah." Dick expressed as he leaned past Harleen, "It seems that I'll catch you in just a few. It appears Mister Wayne has arrived."

Harleen nodded her head in approval as Dick started to walk towards the newly commotion erupting towards the entrance.

Dick spun around and playfully pointed at her, "Don't you go anywhere, Harleen! We'll be right back with our sarcastic conversation in just a few minutes!"

Harleen giggled as she turned around to meet Angie with her drink.

"You are seriously holding out on me, girl." Angie said.

"Not really. He's all yours, Angie."

"Eh, a man like that wouldn't go for a gal like me."

"I beg to differ, lady. You're gorgeous." Harleen smiled and patted Angie on the shoulder.

"You're different, Harleen. And I like it. Whatever or _whoever_ did this to you... keep doing it."

That caught Harleen off guard, and her face turned soft. Her guard let down for a split second as she absorbed Angie's words. Harleen was different, and only one other person that had told her that... was Joker. But to have someone else notice it too, gave Harleen a sense of stability.

If only Angie knew _WHO_ was causing such a drastic change in Harleen, she might rethink and take back her comment. But for now, Harleen took Angie's observation to heart.

Bringing the drink to her lips, Harleen sucked down the harsh liquid. It burned her lips and her throat... but she enjoyed the sensation.

Angie just stared at her, smiling and enjoying Harleen's newfound energy.

"Well... time to go meet the man of the hour." Angie said as she started to walk towards an already crowded area where Bruce Wayne apparently walked in.

Harleen had no care to meet the man. She then decided to make her way to get another drink - as she was surely going to need it if she were to survive the entire night here. Harleen was already done, and the night was _JUST_ getting started.

Chugging down yet another vodka straight, an arm enclosed around Harleen's, and roughly pulled her out of her personal space.

"There you are!" Flimmel beamed.

"Oh, yippy. How are you tonight, Doctor Flimmel?" Harleen rolled her eyes, simply not caring after the liquid courage started to pump through her body.

"Oh, don't you look _ravishing_! Almost good enough to eat!"

"That is not very professional, Doctor."

"Please, just Flimmel. No Doctor me this, Doctor me that - Right now, it's just you and I. Dance with me?"

Before Harleen could protest, Flimmel had already started to guide her to the dance floor.

Roughly twirling Harleen around and then putting his arms around her waist, Flimmel greedily pushed himself against her body.

Harleen felt absolutely disgusting. She couldn't even bare to put her arms around his sweaty neck. Instead she laid both of her hands flat on Flimmel's chest, as if ready to push him away at any second.

As they swayed from side to side in motion with the slow and jazzy music, Flimmel didn't make it a secret that he was eating Harleen up with his eyes. Flimmel stared straight at Harleen's breasts, and she felt like she was going to vomit all over him. She wish she would. Maybe then she could get out of here early.

Flimmel's hands then started to slowly trace the line of her bare back. Harleen flinched and shrugged his hands back down to her hips. Only then, his hands started to move downward, only to harshly grab a handful of her butt, and he squeezed _hard_.

"WHAT THE-!" Harleen cried out and shoved Flimmel's hands once again, but this time pushing him back.

"Do _NOT_ touch me like that again!"

"Oh, Harley! Get used to it. You'll be screaming a lot more later tonight." Flimmel grinned widely that actually brought bile up to her throat.

 _'Okay, this is it, I'm going to vomit. Please vomit.'_

"Dad, may I?"

Harleen's body stiffened at the familiar voice.

"Of course, Son!" Flimmel chuckled, "You two have things to make up for anyway."

Channing moved around to face Harleen, as he slowly - but ever so gently took Harleen by the waist and coaxed her to sway side to side with the music.

His brown hair was neatly combed, his dark blue suit fit snug, and looking a lot more sober than when he did in her apartment.

Harleen said nothing, but she already knew that her facial expression said it out loud already.

"You look like you want to kill me." Channing mocked, clearly amused.

Harleen still stayed silent, too angry to even giggle at this poor little boy who was surely going to get his comeuppance, along with his worthless father.

They had no idea.

"Listen," Channing whispered close to Harleen's ear, "I am sorry about what happened at your apartment. I really am."

Harleen glared at Channing, "Your apology is _not_ accepted."

"You see," Channing breathed, "I was afraid you were going to say that. You know... it's all your fault. You shouldn't deny me."

Channing then took out a small knife from his blazer pocket, and pressed it up against Harleen's stomach.

Harleen then couldn't control herself, she ripped with laughter. Her laughter reached at such a high pitch, that even a few people glanced over at them.

Channing rapidly looked around, and then pressed the knife harder into her stomach, "Shut it! Shut up!" And he gripped her hip so hard that she knew for sure was going to leave a bruise.

"Listen, you little piece of shit." Harleen threatened, as she pressed her forehead against Channing's - making sure that she invaded his personal space as he did hers on many occasions. "I've been threatened with bigger and, heh, longer things than that." Harleen purposely dug her stomach even harder into the knife,  
"If you come any closer, if you even _breathe_ on me again, I will tear your eyes out, and remove your testicles with a butter knife."

Channing was taken back and shocked by the filth that escaped Harleen's mouth. This was not the same person that he assaulted in her apartment nights ago. Lowering the knife with not knowing what to do, Channing blurted out, "You're just a crazy bitch."

Channing's eyes swayed to each of Harleen's stone cold eyes, trying to see if this was the same Doctor Quinzel. All he saw... was pure hatred. And he was sure... that she was going to hurt him.

Channing slowly released Harleen and quickly put the knife back into his blazer pocket as Dick came walking up to them, "Am I interrupting? Because the lady seems distressed."

"You are certainly not interrupting, Dick." Harleen spat as her wild eyes never left Channing's. "In fact, you have perfect timing."

Dick could clearly read Harleen's body language and turned to face Channing, "Do we have a problem, sir? Because if we do, this will be over quickly. So don't embarrass yourself."

Channing just looked at Harleen, trying to gain back what little pride he had in himself by having the last words, "Watching you."

Harleen continued to glare, holding back everything she had not to go ballistic on the guy.

"Are you okay?" Dick turned to Harleen, thoroughly concerned. "Who was that douche bag?"

Harleen finally broke her eye contact with Channing as he joined his father, Flimmel, and started to exchange a desperate conversation.

"Someone who means nothing." She finally responded. "Co-workers that have assaulted and harassed me. I'm not taking it anymore."

"Jesus, Harleen. Why haven't you reported these people?"

Harleen shrugged her shoulders, "Better late than never to develop the courage, I guess."

"Well, I'll be sure to get these people out of the workplace immediately. They're gone, first thing tomorrow. Now, all stressful situations aside! You're at a party - let's enjoy it." Dick laughed. "I'd like to introduce you to someone who would like to meet you."

Harleen looked at Dick, "Me? Who?"

Dick spun Harleen around to face another tall, well built and empowering man. He extended his arm out to shake Harleen's hand. His voice was mildly husky, yet full of authority, "Bruce Wayne. It's an absolute pleasure to meet you, Miss Quinzel."

Harleen took Bruce's hand and gently shook it. It was odd being around one of the most powerful men in Gotham. Joker being the most powerful man in Gotham was on a different level. Joker was powerful in the crime world. Bruce, on the other hand, lived in a completely different reality.

"I've heard much about the famous _Doctor Quinzel_ and her aspiring break through with the Joker. I'd like to hear all about it."

"You have an interest in the Joker?" Harleen asked curiously.

Bruce laughed. A husky laugh, but very humble. "The Joker has cost me a lot of money, trouble, and pain within my businesses. It would be foolish of me not to be interested in such a man."

"Fair enough." Harleen huffed.

"Have you been to the City Hall before?" Bruce asked.

"No, I haven't, Mister Wayne."

"Come, let me show you around. Grayson, do you mind if I steal this lovely young lady for a bit?"

"By all means, I'll still be here." Dick smiled.

Harleen exchanged a smile with Dick as Bruce put a gentle guiding arm around her waist - steering her away from the crowd.

Showing Harleen everything about the building, and some of the original structure that construction was able to save from when Joker burned it down -  
the building was actually quite beautiful. Stone, marble, and steel mixed together to create a sturdy, yet mesmerizing place. Everything from the silk curtains that hung in every massive window, to every beautiful lighting fixture that twirled with such cultivated beauty.

Finally finding themselves outside, Bruce couldn't help but to show off the ride that he arrived in. The press was already escorted off of the premises, only the moonlight greeted them in the faint darkness.

"You drove here?" Harleen asked, as she looked over the stunning and polished black exotic car. Harleen couldn't even name what kind of car it was, if her life depended on it. It was beautiful, but she could truly care less.

Bruce Wayne - the typical rich playboy type that Harleen had always assumed he was. She was starting to think differently about him, when he had shown her around the City Hall. Bruce was full of cultural intellect, and good conversation... until he brought her out to show off what money could buy.

"A beautiful lady, in a beautiful car." Bruce acknowledged. "Would you like to sit in it?"

' _He really thinks I'm interested in his car. Well... no harm in playing with the fool.'_ Harleen giggled at her own little jokes.

Bruce opened the driver's side door for Harleen to sit inside. Carefully handling her dress, she sat down in the plush leather seat. It almost molded to her body. Harleen could sleep there... just one car seat was probably more expensive than her entire bed set!

Suddenly, the sound of a ringing phone erupted the silence. Bruce reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Uh, I've got to take this." Bruce answered the phone and abruptly told the person on the line to hold on for a moment. Bruce then leaned over the open car door, and faced Harleen, "I'll be right back. Don't you go anywhere. You look lovely in the car, by the way." And he flashed a very handsome smile.

"Are you actually hitting on me, Mister Wayne?" Harleen asked, simply amused with how this night was turning out.

"Well... maybe." Bruce shyly admitted.

Harleen watched Bruce walk around the corner of the building to take his phone call. Harleen just leaned back, inhaling the aroma in the sports car. It was a sweet fragrance, but with a tinge of vanilla and musk.

 _'It must be his cologne.'_ She thought.

Minutes passed, and Harleen was starting to get bored. Eyeing all of the odd controls that the sports car possessed, Harleen brushed her hand against some of them - not recognizing what most of them were even meant for. What a confusing piece of equipment.

Finally wanting to lay further back into the seat, Harleen started to look for the lever to adjust the seat back. In the process of looking for a lever, her heel caught hold under the dashboard. Roughly yanking her leg back, a loud CLICK vibrated the car - only to lose her shoe and open the trunk of the vehicle.

"Goddammit." Harleen cursed at herself, as she tried to grab her heel. It was firmly stuck into whatever it was lodged into. "Great."

Harleen took her other heel off and wiggled her way out of the car to close the trunk.

Huffing and puffing her way around the car, Harleen came to the trunk... only to find what she wouldn't even think of finding in some rich guys car. Most of all, Bruce Wayne.

There sat an arsenal. Harleen gasped, taking a step back. She cautiously looked around to see if anyone, specifically Bruce was around... no one but the valet and security by the entrance of the City Hall stood somewhat nearby - which couldn't fully see Harleen, nor what she was currently looking at.

Every kind of gun was stashed in a long and deep black box. The box had print on the side of it that read:

 ** _'Gotham City Police Department Evidence Locker 49604-B'_**

Harleen twisted her face in confusion. Evidence locker? Did Bruce Wayne work for the GCPD? Did he steal them? Did he have dark secrets? Just like her...  
All of these guns were fully loaded, she could tell that much. What was Bruce doing with them?

Harleen was ready to close the trunk and forget she ever saw anything. But then suddenly, a long and thick gun had caught her eye. A machine gun. From the looks of it, an M16.

"Joker." Harleen whispered to herself, as she gently caressed the cold gun under her fingertips.

She couldn't believe what she was contemplating. Here was a machine gun for the taking. Every staff member was currently at the Gala - so the Asylum was practically empty tonight, except for a handful of guards. It was almost too perfect.

Was fate really just handing her a machine gun to help a notorious killer escape his imprisonment? Or were there bigger forces at work here? Harleen was denied by her church, fell in love with a Clown, and was currently on the brink of insanity herself. She may have thought of killing people, but she would never go through with it... or would she?

This entire time, Harleen had always felt that she was holding something back... was it her grip on reality? Because she was about to lose just that.

If she was going to do anything, the time was now. _NOW_.

Harleen quickly picked up the M16 and wrapped it in the bottom of her dress.

Quickly closing the trunk and making her way to a nearby Taxi, she climbed inside and gave the address to her apartment. As she sat in the Taxi, Harleen realized that she had forgotten her wedged heel in Bruce Wayne's car. Looking at the time on the dashboard of the Taxi, it read 10:32PM.

Harleen giggled to herself. _'Cinderella lost her shoe, but she is on time before midnight!'_

With little time to change into boots, black jeans, and a blue shirt - Harleen threw her Doctors coat on and hoped into her own car - making her way to Arkham Asylum.

Harleen's adrenaline was at it's peak, and the rush it gave her made every inch of her body explode with goosebumps.

Hiding the gun under her big white Doctor's coat, and rushing through the entrance of Arkham with purpose - Harleen easily avoided the metal detector.

"Doctor Quinzel, aren't you supposed to be at the Party?" A guard asked, suddenly appearing out of nowhere.

Harleen stopped and slowly turned to face him, trying to keep her excited nerves at a cool level. "I got a phone call about my patient. I'm just checking in on him."

"Oh, well everything is okay. Although, Doctors Flimmel and Channing were seen in the Director's office not even fifteen minutes ago. They seemed a little distressed, so it makes sense that you'd show up."

"Thank you, sir. But I've got it from here." Harleen reassured as she gripped the gun under her coat so tight, that her knuckles turned white.

"Buzz if you need anything, Doctor."

Satisfied that she has gotten past security, but nervous that both Flimmel and Channing were in the same building, Harleen nodded and proceeded down to Joker's cell.

Punching in her code, the door opened to face the room with the bullet-proof glass windowed cell.

Joker was already standing against the glass, intently watching the television behind Harleen as she walked in.

"Oh!" Joker beamed with pure delight. "And what do I owe this unexpected visit, Doctor? I was just admiring your five seconds of fame."

Harleen looked up at the television above her, only to see her fully assault the reporter earlier that night.

"You look absolutely gorgeous, Kitten. And the necklace..." Joker grinned at the sight on the television of the piece of jewellery he had graciously given her.  
His Harley looked like a Queen, and he wasn't there to witness it himself.

"So..." Joker purred through the glass as he leaned his forehead against the barrier. "Crash the party?"

Harleen didn't speak, instead she went straight to the keypad, entered in her code, and opened Joker's cell door. She stepped inside,  
fearless, and silent.

Joker was even taken back by her sudden change in disposition as he kept her gaze. What was she doing?

Harleen reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, and dropped it on top of the small table, along with her key-card. "There's the access codes to every door and every security breach in Arkham... and..." Harleen lifted her jacket, only to suddenly expose the M16, and plopped it with a thud onto the table next to the access codes, "There's your machine gun."


	13. Chapter 13

**After a busy October month, I am back!** **I promise, that won't happen again! I will not go that long without a chapter :) And - today is my Birthday, so what other joy than to write my favorite duo on my special day? Ha!  
**

 **On a side note - some of you have been asking who this Dick Grayson is. It's no secret - that is Nightwing!**

 **I'd like to express that I am trying to follow the Suicide Squad storyline as best as I can without seeing the extended cut yet - adding my own little twists and turns. So I'm trying to write this as realistic as possible. (At least, how I would define 'realistic' with a romanticized version of Joker and Harley).**

 **Also - there are somewhat violent graphic scenes ahead! Just a warning.**

 **Oh... and I changed the crowbar to the wooden baseball bat. I have my reasons!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 13**

It was as if the air suddenly withdrew every ounce of oxygen out. The room was still, time itself was only a man-made creation in that one simple moment. And yet- in that one simple moment, Joker looked down at the stone cold machine gun that sat on the table in front of him. Not moving his head, but only those stunning, yet animalistic eyes that went from the M16, to Harleen - who stood rigid before him. The look of excitement and confusion - all balled up into one exaggerated expression caressed her delicate facial features.

Harleen waited for Joker to speak... maybe even a simple giggle. Anything! His momentary silence was torture to her. Harleen realized that she welcomed Joker's guttural laugh - it was normal for him. Silence, on the other hand - was absolutely terrifying.

Suddenly, Joker jerked back his head, and the most menacing, deep, and infamous laugh escaped his throat. Even though the sound echoed off of the thick cell walls around them, Harleen instinctively relaxed her stiff posture at the sound of Joker's approval. It was almost like a symphony composed just for her. At least, that's what her mind twisted it up to be.

"My dear, _Princess_." Joker cooed when he finally broke free of his uncontrollable laughing fit, "I will admit, I didn't think you had it in ya." Joker tilted his head to the side, keeping a close and examining eye on Harleen - waiting to see any ounce of hesitance, regret, or fear... and then he would kill her.

But Joker saw only admiration and determination in Harleen's deep blue eyes. It almost made him sick, but Joker couldn't help but to be captivated with such loyalty.

A low growl escaped Joker's pierced lips as he still contemplated killing the stunning and loyal creature in front of him. Harleen waited - almost like she was already a trustworthy soldier of Joker's - expecting him to bark orders that she would instantly take action to follow - without hesitation.

There was something incredible about this woman - Joker thought to himself. This wasn't the same Doctor Harleen Quinzel that first walked into that session room a few months ago. This wasn't that same frightened Harleen Quinzel that he encountered nine years ago at that bank heist - scared, worried, and lost. No - this was _Harley Quinn._ _HIS_ Harley Quinn that he's been working almost effortlessly to awaken within her. Harleen still needed that little push though, and Joker had been waiting for this moment since he set eyes on her for the second time at Arkham Asylum. She had proved herself this far... now let's see how far she can _REALLY_ go.

With his last thoughts temporarily thrown to the back of his mind - Joker moved with such speed, Harleen couldn't keep up with his fluid movement.

Joker gripped Harleen's throat, shoving her hard against the cold wall. It mildly knocked the wind out of her, as she instantly gripped Joker's firm wrist with both of her hands, while coughing to regain her breath again.

Joker held Harleen's throat tight enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to block her air way. He slowly moved his face towards Harleen whom composed herself the best she could. Joker looked as he were stalking his prey - slowly eating her up, simply with his eyes.

Joker took his free hand, and placed it upon Harleen's pink cheek, slightly pushing her head away from him so that he could whisper heavily into her ear.

"Didn't your parents ever tell you not to trust crazy people? You of all, should know that."

Joker's words hissed through Harleen's head; a tingling sensation shot through her body as she felt Joker's warm breath against her face. Harleen was not frightened, no. She was intrigued with Joker's reaction. He was surely trying to scare her - possibly test her... and she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of breaking her. Because if Joker wanted to kill Harleen... he would've done so already.

Harleen strained against Joker's hand on her cheek, forcing herself to look at him dead in the eyes. Joker lowered his head, exposing a mouth full of metal teeth in a wide grin, while his tongue traced his lower grill. Joker couldn't contain the rush of excitement with seeing the fight that Harleen still had in her.

Harleen inhaled deeply, heaving her chest upward to imitate confidence before she spoke, "Only trust someone who can see three things in you." Harleen gritted her teeth and continued, " _ONE_ \- The sorrow behind your smile. _TWO_ \- The love behind your anger. And _THREE_ \- The reason behind your silence."

Harleen tightened her jaw, and didn't blink as she watched Joker's smile slowly fade. She had caught him off guard... again.

It seemed like they had been staring at one another longer than they really were. Not a single blink of an eye; not even the disorder of the world around them could break the intensity that shook the ground beneath them.

Harleen wondered if Joker felt what she was feeling. Relief, content, freedom... _love_.

Joker didn't know what he felt; it was alien to him. The sharp piercing at his cold heart gave it life - almost like an electroshock to something that had been dormant for ages, had woke it up after only God knows how long.

 _'That's it.'_ Joker thought to himself. ' _Dormant - electroshock.'_ The one thing that Joker absolutely loathed in Arkham, was the unavoidable shock therapy that was bestowed upon him before. Even Harleen had approved of such 'therapy' to Joker at one point, before she thought against it. Harleen needed that little push though, and Joker wanted to see what she was capable of. This would be _HIS_ creation. His Mona Lisa. His prized possession if he decided to keep her around long enough.

Joker released Harleen from his grip, and slowly held out his hand, "Phone."

Harleen rubbed her already aching neck that would surely be bruised by tomorrow. She reached into her back pocket, and obediently handed Joker her phone.

Joker snatched it, whilst quickly dialing a number. Speaking into the phone with such authority, Harleen started to emanate with curiosity more than worry.

"This _sss_ is Boss speaking." Joker radiated with his theatrical tone. "We've got the go. Code -" Joker motioned for Harleen to hand him the folded paper that she had laid out on the small table with all of the access codes written on it.

Harleen quickly grabbed it; handing the paper to Joker as he read aloud to whoever was on the other line, "27P901-005. That will grant you access inside. To blind security and shut this whole place down - WW67L1-0048. No key card required. C-4 works as well." And as quickly as he was on the phone, he was off. Joker handed the phone back to Harleen, as she took it - and replaced it into her back pocket once again.

"Harleen?" A man's voice suddenly and unexpectedly echoed through the room. "What on _EARTH_ are you doing in there with _HIS_ cell door wide open and no restraints?"

Doctor Flimmel stood before the entrance of Joker's cell, looking absolutely terrified.

Joker couldn't believe this chubby, loud, and obnoxious man had come in so quietly - without Joker hearing a single footstep. Harleen was already proving to be a distraction from his sharp predatory instincts. But alas! Here was one of the nuisance men that Joker was _DYING_ to have a face to face with... and what perfect timing.

Harleen backed against the wall once again, only to brace herself for what might come next. For once, she felt a little worry - as it momentarily spread across her face.

 _'I must be crazy.'_ Harleen thought. For she was more afraid of this simple, sex-driven, and rude Doctor that stood just feet before her - rather than the Joker himself.

"Harleen." Flimmel swallowed hard; beckoning with his hand for Harleen to come in his direction. "Come here. Step away from him. Everything will be okay."

Joker smiled, and then erupted with hysterical laughter.

Thinking that Joker was mildly distracted, and with a clumsy bolt of courage - Flimmel reached out and grabbed Harleen by her forearm, tugging her sharply behind him.

Harleen tripped over her own feet at the harshness of Flimmel's bold move - sending her to her side against the cold floor beside him.

The loud huff that escaped Harleen's lungs triggered something within Joker that he couldn't even place himself. All that he knew... was that he was _LIVID_.

Joker was no longer laughing - instead his nostrils flared, and his chest heaved up and down from the rapid and unsteady breaths that boiled his blood to such an extent. His dark blue sweat pants and long-sleeved shirt suddenly looked a little tight, as Joker stood up straight and protruded his chest out.

Flimmel saw Joker's disposition change, and instantly knew that he was in trouble. Sweat started to pour from his face, when Flimmel looked down at Harleen who was attempting to stand up.

Acting on instinct, and putting two and two together - Flimmel quickly reached for Harleen's arm once again. He yanked her up, cupped both of her hands behind her back in one fist, and positioned her in front of him as a human shield. Flimmel grabbed a syringe with his free hand from a nearby table that they used for drug experiments, and placed the needle over Harleen's neck.

"So you _LIKE_ her, eh? No chance, you crazy bastard." Flimmel spat. "Care to test what pours out of this needle into this Bitch?"

Harleen winced at Flimmel's tight grip on her tiny wrists, and the needle that poked her sensitive silky white skin. When Joker handled her, Harleen was almost aroused with such a forceful and welcomed touch. But this sweaty man who attempted to bind her to him as a protective armor of flesh, made her skin crawl -  
and her nerves acted against such unwanted contact.

"You piece of _SHIT_!" Harleen choked as she tried to struggle from Flimmel's grip. "I knew you were a shady bastard, but a coward?"

"I think you and I need to have a little chat- _ta_ , Doctor." Joker grinned, as he took a step closer to the pair.

"Don't you take another step! Move back into your cell, and I won't hurt this stupid Bitch." Flimmel yelled as he pointed the needle towards Joker's cell, indicating for him to comply with his empty demand.

Harleen then saw her window of opportunity, as Flimmel's arm reached over her shoulder with the needle pointed in a safe direction, she quickly latched her mouth onto Flimmel's hand, and bit down as hard as she could.

Flimmel screamed in pain. He dropped the needle and Harleen's captive hands to attend the pain that shot through his hand and up to his arm.

Harleen twirled out of Flimmel's reach, only to fully expose a clear pathway for Joker. She spit the bright blood out of her mouth, and quickly wiped the remaining liquid from her chin with the sleeve of her Doctor's coat.

Harleen didn't even see the swift movement of Joker as he closed in on his target.

Taking a few steps back, Harleen wasn't sure if she wanted to watch this, as she knew that Flimmel wasn't going to see the light of tomorrow. But she hesitantly locked her eyes on Joker as he clasped Flimmel's throat with both of his hands.

Flimmel dropped to the ground; fighting for air. The fear stricken Doctor was trying to hit whatever he could as Joker continued to choke the life out of him. But just before Flimmel was about to pass out, Joker released his grip. Joker stood tall over him; dominating this pathetic human being.

Flimmel coughed, inhaling oxygen into his deprived lungs. His coughing was hoarse, and rigid - as surely the soft tissue of his throat was damaged.

" _HA!_ Look at you, Doctor!" Joker spat. Joker then slowly lowered himself to almost sit upon Flimmel's legs as the Doctor tried to regain full control over his breathing. "You _dare_ challenge _me_?" Joker hissed in Flimmel's face. Flimmel shook his head, instant fear engulfed the man's features - he was almost unrecognizable.

"Harley, Dear." Joker purred, "Would you be so kind to bring over that wonderful gift of machinery that you brought for me?"

Joker didn't even turn around to look at Harleen, as he still locked eyes with Flimmel. Almost as if to keep an eye on every move he did, making absolute sure that his prey wouldn't escape.

As Harleen hesitantly started to move toward the M16 on the table in Joker's cell - Flimmel's eyes widened as he watched her take hold of the artillery, and hand it to Joker.

Still in the squatting position over Flimmel, Joker smiled as he took the gun from Harleen. Joker's throat rumbled in a low satisfactory growl. Harleen slowly backed away from Joker, still not able to keep her eyes off of him. She had never seen him in this state before. Even nine years ago - when she first encountered Joker at the bank heist, she had only _heard_ his destruction; not witnessed it.

Harleen questioned her own sanity as she started to admire Joker's still, and focused stance that he kept over Flimmel. Joker's defined muscles strained against his clothing, as he was tensed just in case he had to spring into action - and yet completely relaxed to know exactly what he was doing.

The hard and chilling floor showed no mercy to Flimmel's back - as the half sitting up position strained his entire body. But Flimmel dared not move, though his eyes were frantically searching around him - looking for some way out of this terrifying situation.

Joker started to grind his grill together as he slowly stood up, and pointed the gun at Flimmel's twisted face.

"Please." Flimmel begged, "I'll do anything. I didn't mean to ever disrespect you. All we ever wanted to do was help you!" Flimmel shot a glance over at Harleen - as if looking for some form of back up.

Harleen stood perfectly still against the wall again, without a single sound - she just instinctively glared at the man who had harassed her for years on so many levels. Flimmel had caused Harleen stress, anxiety, depression, and trouble. She felt nothing for such a vile creature.

Joker raised one of his hands, and put up his index finger as if to silence Flimmel. "Tsk tsk tsk." Joker mocked, and moved his index finger from side to side - in return, fear twisted upon Flimmel's face.

"Yoooou! Doctor." Joker started, "Have tampered with things that do _not_ belong to you. So... where shall I begin?!"

"I haven't done _anything_ to you!" Flimmel screamed.

"You might want to keep quiet before I lose my patience." Joker warned. "I'd like you to _feel_ the pain that I'm about to inflict."

By this time, Flimmel sat up - frustrated, scared, and hopeless as to what he could possibly do to live through this. He then looked over at Harleen again,  
only to realize what Joker meant by _'things that didn't belong to him'_. Joker thought he _owned_ Harleen - maybe Flimmel could use it to his advantage.

"I-I didn't know." Flimmel continued, "I only told my son to go scare her at her apartment! Not fucking rape the bitch!"

Joker had no control over his own actions. Flimmel's words struck him in a way that no one has ever done in his lifetime. The M16 went off - with over a dozen bullets escaping from the barrel. The loud noise from the machine ripped through Harleen's ears, as she cupped her head in protest of the sharp sounds. When the gun became silent once more, Harleen slowly lowered her hands and stared at the horror that laid before her.

Flimmel's body was almost unrecognizable. The thick dark blood pooled on the floor around where he lay - his clothes ripped from the shower of bullets, and soaked with the thick blood to where it almost looked black.

Joker clenched his fist as he lowered the weapon. He let out a louder growl than his usual. This one was angry, hatred, and fueled by an annoyance at not just the dead man that laid before Joker - but also at himself.

"You couldn't just keep that mouth shut, could you Doctor?" Joker spat, "I had plans for you! And not the _'easy way out'_ kind of plans!"

Joker grunted and pierced his lips as he continued to mock the body under him.

Suddenly, a loud explosion ripped Joker from his self pity party. It shook the entire room, as Harleen gasped and looked in the direction of screams and gunfire that started to echo throughout the facility.

An ear to ear smile formed across Joker's face, as he walked to where Harleen planted herself against the wall.

"Time is up! Time to go, Doc!" Joker grabbed Harleen by the arm and yanked her to follow him.

Harleen apparently had no choice but to follow Joker as he practically dragged her behind him. At this moment, Harleen had turned on her auto-pilot, complying with Joker's every move. In turn - he swung Harleen around as if she weighed only a fraction of what she really did. Joker's movement was fluid, almost as if he were prowling through the hallways with a purpose that he long awaited to fulfill in these past few months.

That must be why the Batman had such a hard time going against Joker - Harleen thought to herself. Joker not only had the resources, intellect, insane boldness, and a loyal army of thugs... but Joker's cleverness and smooth flow of movements only indicated that he was just as impossible to physically get a hold of. Joker's wit and fists moved just as fast - and that was considered deadly in Harleen's eyes.

More explosions filled the halls of Arkham Asylum. This time, the exercise yard was almost completely torn apart. Guards positioned themselves at the top of Arkham's observation towers just outside of the perimeter of the Asylum, beaming every spotlight available - and vainly searched for the source in the darkness. But all they could see were escaped patients, drugged out of their minds, numbly wandering the unexpected war zone - uncertain if the explosions were actually happening, or were just some new ridiculous hallucination of an all-too-familiar by-product of their high dosage meds.

Suddenly, paramilitary thugs in gas masks and protective armor descended from ropes dropped from the black and sleek helicopters hovering unseen in the shadowy clouds. Only the pale moonlight detected the stealth of these choppers, until it was too late.

As the thugs descended, they targeted the helpless guards - effortlessly turning them into instant corpses with high-powered guns.

The few defenders who managed to dodge the escalating attack, ran for cover inside of the Asylum - ducking behind overturned beds for cover. The Arkham Asylum security was greatly outnumbered tonight.

The thugs moved quickly and cautiously through the halls, shooting anything that crossed their path - whether it be Arkham security - or Doctors,  
they were being taken down without a single hesitant thought.

Harleen suddenly realized that Joker had made his way to the electroshock therapy room. Her auto-pilot turned off just as quickly as it had turned on. The situation was surreal to her, and Harleen even had to shake her head clear of exactly what was happening.

 _"YOU."_

A familiar deep voice rumbled through the room - even loud enough to drown out the echoing gun fire and screams that filled the various parts of the Asylum.

Doctor Channing stomped out from the small observation corridor that was connected to the electroshock therapy room. Harleen turned to face Channing, as he was just as wild looking as some of the patients that resided at Arkham Asylum. The dim lighting in the room didn't help the crazy expression that crossed Channing's face.

Joker released Harleen's arm, only to slowly turn towards Doctor Channing. The look on Joker's face was far more sinister than any expression Channing could ever conjure up. Even Harleen took a step back and away from Joker, as he radiated with such animosity, that she could almost feel it burn the air around him.

For once, Harleen felt slightly nervous to be in Joker's presence.

Joker tossed the M16 down to the floor, sending it sliding away from the three of them as he wanted to make sure that he didn't lose his temper completely with this man. Joker wanted to feel Channing's bones break under his bare hands. Joker then slowly lifted his arms up in a dramatic display - as if he were being controlled by an unseen puppeteer.

" _Ooooohhh_! Look here!" Joker cried out, "It's the man of the hour! Not many catch my attention, Doc... but _YOU_. You have my _FULL_ attention!"

Joker tossed his head slightly back, sending his emerald hair to fall out of place and around his face, as he ripped with menacing laughter that sent chills down Channing's tense body.

Though, Channing didn't move from his defensive stance. His body language was clear - he was ready for a fight, and he would go down swinging with everything he had.

Joker smiled at Channing - as he was thoroughly enjoying this challenge, but his silver smile quickly faded as Joker was suddenly consumed with the possible images of what Channing had did to _his_ Harley Quinn.

"You played with something of mine, and that is something that I do _NOT_ tolerate!" Joker's voice came out harsh, deep, and full of burning anger. Joker then swiftly gripped Harleen by her waist, and spun her against his body. Wrapping one rock-hard arm around her mid-drift, Joker pushed Harleen into him. He then lifted his other hand and lightly gripped her face, caressing her flushed cheeks as he spoke, "You like this, don't you, little boy? What if I told you that I've touched more parts of her body with my mouth - than you jacking off numerous times to the thoughts of having her?"

Joker then started to deeply inhale the side of Harleen's face, as he generously licked the nape of her sensitive neck.

Harleen couldn't tell if the sensuous growl came from Joker - or from her... or the both of them. But before she could fully indulge in Joker's moist and warm caresses with his lips, Harleen was sharply thrown to the side as Channing erupted with a fit of angry screams as he came hurling towards Joker with balled-up fists.

Being driven with embarrassment and rage, Channing was clumsy - and Joker was too quick. Joker side-stepped at the last minute, only to disrupt Channing's poor attempt of attack. Joker raised both of his fists, and came down with everything he had - onto Channing's back. Sending Channing to the floor in pain. Joker circled around him with a trouble-making smile, giggling to himself - as he slicked back his hair with his palm.

Channing staggered up to his feet, though still unsteady - he went charging again for another onslaught.

Channing didn't learn from the first attempt - as Joker side stepped out of Channing's way yet again, only for Joker to get a firm grip of Channing's hair - and driving his forehead straight into the corner of the electroshock table.

" _Ooooohhhh_. Now that _had_ to have hurt!" Joker chuckled.

Channing laid on the floor and didn't immediately get up this time. He gently touched his head as the blood poured from the gnarly gash on his forehead.  
But Channing was still driven by anger and adrenaline when he locked eyes with Harleen who stood at the far end of the already small room.

If he couldn't take out the Joker - Channing thought to himself - then he would take out that stupid bitch who started this in the first place.

With what strength he had left, Channing heaved himself up, grabbed a scalpel from a nearby table, and started to run for Harleen - hoping to slice her throat wide open for the Clown to see.

As Harleen instinctively covered half of her face with her arms to shield herself, Channing didn't get even a few feet of her. Harleen belched out a tiny cry as a brown wooden baseball bat made direct blunt contact to the back of Channing's head. The crack of his skull sounded almost like a gunshot, as even more crimson blood splattered in every direction.

Channing instantly dropped to the floor once again, this time - his body convulsed.

Joker exploded with laughter, "Down for the count! Third times a charm, buddy! But I need this table clean. Let's take this in the other room."

Joker then gripped the neckline of Channing's shirt, and began to drag him to the observation room with the baseball bat still in hand.

The only view Harleen now had, was through the massive viewing window. The image of Joker bringing the wooden baseball bat up again, and coming down with such force, Harleen started to overflow with shock.

Again, and again, and again, and again - Joker lifted the bat up and above his head - over and over and over; bringing it down with everything he had. His blows becoming more and more aggressive as blood splattered the viewing window.

Harleen finally felt the fear that had been brewing in her gut... and her instincts told her to _RUN_.

Acting on her gut feeling, Harleen bolted for the exit - hoping to eventually find a hiding spot within the Asylum until this all cleared up.

Harleen's fleeing from the room caught Joker's peripheral vision, as he threw the baseball bat down atop of the bloody pulp that no longer looked human.

Stepping into the now empty room, Joker curled his lip upward, as he growled with disapproval. "Oh, kitten. You don't run from Daddy."

As if on cue, Jonny Frost emerged from the chaos accompanied by four other thugs that were heavily armed. Frost straightened his blazer, as he were dressed in a fine and sleek black suit.

"Boss." Frost acknowledged, as he effortlessly pulled a handkerchief from his blazer pocket and handed it to Joker.

Joker took the cloth, and wiped his face of the small left-over blood splatter.

"Jonny-boy! So glad you got dressed up for me!" Joker cackled. "Now, I want my Doctor back. _Right. This. Instant_."

Frost lifted his thumb back and indicated that two of the men standing beside him - to fetch Doctor Harleen Quinzel.


	14. Chapter 14

**This chapter was a little difficult to write - although, I had found the actual script for Suicide Squad. So the electroshock scene was from the script... with my addings here and there! lol**

 **I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 14**

It was almost as if Harleen's body resorted to her primitive instincts, as tunnel-vision engulfed her eye sight. The Asylum tried to go into lock down - but apparently Joker's goons had used the access codes that she had given to him to blind the system. Back-up generators echoed in sync with the gunfire throughout the hallways and corridors. Cameras were down, cell doors were open, and the lights were dim. Flashing red evacuation lights over powered the fading florescent ones, and illuminated every other room. As Harleen staggered through the chilly Asylum walkways, the red glare from the overhead warning lights seemed to consume her eye sight. Arkham Asylum looked as if it had turned into one of those cheesy Halloween haunted houses - as the eerie lack of warm bodies started to become cold and lifeless ones that littered numerous darkened corners - Doctors, security, and patients alike... with the occasional mishap of one of Joker's thugs. Harleen felt the panic form in the pit of her stomach, as she then realized what she had done. This was real. Her career was over. This was all of her doing... and she would've done it again in a heart beat.

This world had brought nothing but pain, loss, and had turned it's back against her. It was time for her to lash back. But right now, Harleen needed a safe route out of the Asylum - especially before the Batman showed up to crash the party. Harleen wasn't sure why she had fled from the electroshock therapy room when Joker was plummeting Channing. She supposed that it was her adrenaline that had kicked in. She had never witnessed anything so carelessly violent - yet Harleen felt that Doctor Channing deserved every ounce of death blowing torture that Joker inflicted upon him... and he did it for _her_.

Harleen stopped, and rested her back against a wall to catch her breath, and to think about what she was saying to herself. The Devil and the Angel whom rested on each of her shoulders were at constant battle with one another - as she contemplated whether she were just as crazy as her patients - or just reacting as a crazy woman in love with the wrong person.

Shaking her head, Harleen pushed herself from the wall that she was leaning on - and proceeded to speed walk towards the back emergency exit of Arkham. She figured that she would just walk right out of the 'back' door, preferably unnoticed - because let's face it... Harleen said it to herself many times, and it may seem a little cocky - even for her ... but she will say it again - If Joker wanted to kill her, he would've done so already.

But did his thugs know that? And the escaped patients were just as dangerous - as their drug induced minds shadowed their already clouded judgement and ability to reconcile fantasy from reality.

Harleen then instantly regretted leaving Joker's side - as she would've probably been a lot safer in his close proximity. Probably.

Harleen gritted her teeth in frustration as she fought with herself. She currently didn't know what was right, and what was wrong. Harleen already craved to be in the presence of Joker, but it also frightened her. Harleen was very careful not to show her fear - but she believed that her fear was only for the unknown.

Trying to ignore the sporadic cries for help and gunfire - Harleen finally came to one of the many emergency exits without any disruptions of her attempted escape. Confident that she was almost to her freedom, Harleen flung open the door.

The cold night air stung Harleen's lungs as she sharply inhaled - almost relieved that she was closer to getting away. Harleen needed some time to think of what she was exactly going to do. Surely, her apartment wouldn't be safe past tonight - and Harleen needed to make sure that she covered her tracks. Every officer at the Gotham PD would be out to get the ' _Crazy Doctor who helped the Joker escape Arkham Asylum'_. Maybe even Batman would pay her a visit... and that is exactly the kind of company that Harleen wanted to avoid.

Harleen stayed close to the building walls, staying in the shadows to avoid anyone detecting her presence. The parking lot wasn't too far from her now, but she suddenly heard voices.

Ducking behind a decorative rose bush, Harleen was stealthy enough to allude a group of Joker's men whom had passed right by her.

Suddenly, the static of a radio sent Harleen to slightly jerk upward - thankfully the thugs didn't take any notice to her skittish outbreak, and Harleen steadied herself once more behind the thick and thorny plant - as she listened to the familiar voice of Jonny Frost on the walkie radio that each of the men carried on their belts.

"Do you copy that? Boss wants her breathing." Frost continued, "Don't fuck it up. Fan out and _FIND_ her."

The thugs laughed. "So all we know is that she is blonde, pretty, a Doctor, and wearing a blue shirt." The first bulky thug said to the others.

Harleen sharply lifted her hand to her mouth, almost slapping herself to hide the gasp that escaped her lips. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

The second man, more slender - spoke in response, "Wonder why Boss wants her so bad? She must be a hot piece of ass."

The third, average looking type of guy, spoke in a more serious tone, "I don't know, man. Boss hasn't ever diverted from such a mission. There must be something about this woman."

The fourth started to joke, "She must have been a _reeeeeally_ good Doctor to Boss!"

The group shared a laugh once again before proceeding on their way. And apparently... looking for Harleen.

When the group of Joker's thugs disappeared from sight, and with the parking lot in view, Harleen slowly emerged from behind the rose bush and started to trot towards where her black Mercedes sat.

Only feet from her car, Harleen momentarily looked back to make sure no one was following her. Only then - out of nowhere, she suddenly toppled into a what seemed like a brick wall. Harleen stumbled backward, only to quickly catch her balance before she could fall down on to the black asphalt.

The easily recognizable dark blue sweat pants and shirts that were issued to the patients of Arkham Asylum - made Harleen hiccup with dread. The two men glared down at Harleen as she knew these two patients very well.

The Ember Twins. A duo of clinically insane pair of brothers that have wrecked mayhem across Gotham City about two years ago. Harleen had treated them at one point before the Arkham staff became aware of their hatred for women.

Unlike Joker - who was fully capable of intelligence and reasoning when he wanted - the Ember Twins had no form of tactics. They just acted plainly on impulse - which was also their weakness. They were murderers and rapists... and this was NOT how Harleen planed her escape route to go.

Quickly trying to spin around to retreat in another direction, the bothers were quicker than Harleen. One had already circled around to face Harleen, while the other inched closer behind her.

Both men towered over Harleen. They also shared the same appearances. Their stringy shoulder length black hair draped around their square and hard faces. Their eyes were almost black, and the only way to differentiate the two apart, was that David Ember had a distinctive red scar that started from the top of his left eyebrow, lining down to his cheek - and ending at his jawline. A reminder of why they hated women, as that was one of many generous 'gifts' that their mother had left behind.

"David. Casey." Harleen acknowledged the brothers.

Harleen tried to keep her voice steady, and her nerves under control - but it was difficult. She wondered how she would get herself out of this situation. Luck was _not_ on her side tonight.

"Hey der' pretty lady!" David expressed. His high pitch voice would throw anyone off who wasn't expecting it, considering his bulky appearance.

"Why haven't we seen ya? You don' like us anymore?" Casey asked. They both stood significantly still, waiting for Harleen to respond.

"Hey! Doctor! We are askin' ya!" David shouted as he tapped Harleen in the stomach with a flick of his fat wrist, as if that would get an answer out of her faster.

"Oh, boys! I'm so, _so_ sorry that I haven't been in to see you." Harleen started, exaggerating the concern of not seeing them in her voice, "You see, there was another Doctor that wanted you all to himself. He kept me from you. I really wanted to see my two favorite boys!" Harleen lied, as she forced a faux smile that would hopefully buy her a little more time before she could come up with a cleaver escape plan.

"I don' believe ya, Doctor." Casey spat, "So why don't ya make it up to us."

David stood behind Harleen and lifted the back of her Doctor's coat to fully take in the sight of her backside.

Harleen quickly spun around, slapping David's hands as he dropped her coat. David then grabbed a handful of her blonde hair, gripping it tightly at the roots so that Harleen cried out in pain. Harleen instantly reached up with both of her hands to grip David's hand in protest.

Both of the Ember brothers started to laugh as Harleen continued to wince in pain.

"Looks like tonight is our lucky night!" Casey cheered as he lowered his face so close to Harleen's - that the smell of what seemed like rotten food and vinegar invaded her nostrils. The bothers smelled awful, and Harleen felt sick to her gut.

"No." Harleen sternly spat. She didn't know where this sudden newfound courage came from, but she was sick and TIRED of being tossed around. Her body was tired of being grabbed, thrown in every which direction, hit, and dragged. As well as mentally fed up with being handled in such unwanted ways. She kept preaching to herself that she wasn't going to take anymore abuse. She was the one who practically released these two incoherent monsters - so it was time to take them out the best she could.

" _NO_!" Harleen screamed. Using David's gripping hand as leverage, Harleen hoisted herself upward, only to ball up her fist, and punched David directly in the face - sending his head to jerk completely sideways.

David paused in that position for a second, only to slowly turn to look back at Harleen. She had broken his nose.

David's nose was now slightly crooked, and blood started to pour endlessly down his mouth. Harleen curled her lip, and she was ready to fight until she was probably beaten to death. She didn't care - she was willing to go out fighting - even if it killed her.

Casey, shocked at seeing his brother injured, erupted with a scream, " _YOU_! Now you _WANT_ to play _ROUGH_!"

Just as Casey raised his big arm to come crashing down on to Harleen, gunfire pierced the night air. Bullet after bullet entered Casey's body as he involuntarily shook with the force of firepower that ripped through his flesh.

Silence graced again, and a blank expression crossed Casey's face - as he didn't even know what had hit him before he fell straight back, landing hard without mercy. He was instantly dead.

David whipped around to the source of the gunfire, only to see the same group of Joker's thugs that Harleen had hid from just moments ago - their semi-automatic weapons perched against their mid shoulders - ready for combat.

David released Harleen - and a deathly howl of outrage hit Harleen's ears that caused her body to shiver.

David started to charge the men in a full and heavy run, but had absolutely no chance.

Joker's thugs gently squeezed the triggers of their machinery - only to shower David with countless bullets that even shattered one of David's legs to break inward. David fell to the ground with no more movement, as the blood then started to flow onto the black road - looking as if it melted into a pool of abyss.

Without any hesitation, and fueled with her adrenaline, Harleen grabbed her car keys from her coat, and started to run for her car.

"SNATCH HER!" One of the men yelled, as the group of them came running towards Harleen.

Catching up to Harleen quicker than she could get to her car, which was just before her - Harleen sharply turned towards them - only to quickly duck and dodge out of the way from one of the thugs who reached out to grab her. In turn, she shot her elbow back into the man's face - only to crack his nose to the side. Another broken nose to add to her list of accomplishments!

Harleen charged another one of Joker's goons, confident that none of them would dare shoot her, as she had heard Frost's orders over the walkie just moments ago.

The thug whipped both of his arms and legs out to the side - as if to catch Harleen like a fly trap. But she surprised the guy with sliding feet first in between his legs, only to fling out her fists into his groin with full force.

Harleen had successfully slid completely under the thug with some rough road burn to her bottom, having him pathetically bent over and drop to his knees in pain. Harleen reached her car and began to unlock it... but she was just too out numbered.

Three of Joker's men grabbed Harleen as she clung to the door handle of her car. They lifted her completely sideways and off of the ground as she still held on to the car door handle... but Harleen's fingers soon slipped from the moisture that embedded on the handle from the night's condensation.

Finding herself back inside of Arkham Asylum, Harleen was still being carried by two of Joker's men. One had her restrained under her shoulders, and the other - her thighs.

Frost emerged into Harleen's eyesight and effortlessly grabbed Harleen and tossed her to the floor of the electroshock therapy room, whilst still holding onto her wrist. Apparently, Harleen couldn't be trusted, as she messed that up with constantly trying to get away.

"Got her, Boss." Frost said to a tall and muscular figure standing in the shadows.

Joker stepped out from the dark. He stood tall and lean, with his bright green hair that still burned with radiance in the dimly lit room. Metal-capped teeth glinted in the bit of light.

"Ohhh! Whatta we have here _eeee_?" Joker slurred, as he extended his arms out as if to welcome Harleen back. He studied his beautiful Psychiatrist as he looked up to see one of his men holding a rag to his bloodied nose, and another still gripping his groin area in agony.

"Is she too much for you, boys?!" Joker cracked an effortless laugh - truly amused and impressed by the spunk that Harleen had.

"Doctor Quin _zelll_ ," Joker said, "how nice of you to join us. You know - it kind of hurt my feelings when you ran away like that, Pumpkin." Joker pouted in an over dramatic way, and the white glow of his porcelain skin made it that much more divine. "Though, you're looking... good enough to eat. Figuratively speaking, of course. I'm strictly vegan. At least today."

Joker cocked his head to the side as Harleen squirmed in Frost's grip, but he held firmly onto her. Harleen had that all too familiar gut feeling overcome her once again - and she knew that this wasn't going to be an _'easy way out'_ kind of night.

Joker sighed, "Time for a little electroshock therapy. Frost, do me a favor, will you? Dump our pretty lady on the table."

"Wait, _what_?!" Harleen cried out in protest as the mercenary threw Harleen onto the electroshock exam table, and then secured a strap across her chest, stomach, and ankles. Frost made sure Harleen couldn't move an inch with how tight he had fastened the thick leather restraints.

Joker then removed his prison shirt, carefully folded it, and then placed it to the side.

Harleen then couldn't help herself and started to study Joker's well-defined and muscular body. She had never seen Joker without at least a long-sleeved shirt that covered his disturbingly and yet captivating beauty. Joker's extraordinarily pale skin was covered over with dozens - maybe hundreds - of insane tattoos. An eerie wide grin was inked on his right forearm - while a parade of laughing "HA-HA-HA"s crept up his chest, to his left arm, and under his tangle of emerald hair. Dozens more were carefully placed along his side, back, and seemingly down below his pants, filling nearly every open space.

Joker saw Harleen staring at him, confused. He gestured toward the shirt. "The Government spent a helluva lot of money buying us thrift store rejects, so I'm not going to potentially dirty it with your precious blood. Channing's blood - yes. He was well deserved on that level. But the thought of mixing your blood and Doctor Douche's blood together on the same material - is simply not satisfying one bit! I'd rather your blood grace my bare skin, Doctor. Aren't ya flattered? Well... that is _if_ you bleed."

For once, Harleen's eyes reflected her fear - and Joker saw it. He was finally on the verge of breaking Harleen Quinzel.

"Please don't, Mister J. I did what you said; I _helped_ you." Harleen pleaded as she tried to struggle free, but the straps were designed to hold a 400-pound madman.

Joker fell back. His eyes rolled into his head as if he simply couldn't believe what he had just heard. He shook his head to clear away his confusion, then stuck his face inches from Harleen's own. "You _helped_ me?" He repeated, "You helped me? By scorching what few dead, faded memories I had into a sizzling knot?"

"That was prescribed," Harleen pleaded, "Everything said it was the best possible cure for you. But I ended up taking you _off_ of every drug!"

"The damage was being done, and I am _still_ paying for it. For months, you fed me every experimental drug that this shit hole has to offer. And for my what, girl? A cure for my genius? My insanity? My ability to do bird calls? Or maybe you mean it was to help cure my bad back? You know, I got that digging graves for that basketball team that I kidnapped, way back when."

Harleen stared at Joker, obviously confused. He leaned closer to her. "Doctor Quinzel, did you know that for years and years - that they just kept playing against this _one_ other basketball team. Only _one_ other team, and guess what? They _lost_ every single game. _Every. Single. Game_." Joker sighed at the thought. "Anyway, where was I? Oh. Right. At some point - don't you that even a total idiot would say, _'Maybe we should play a different team,'_ or better, that ' _God's telling us we should quit basketball and go into business selling, I don't know, aluminum siding, maybe?'_ What do you think?"

"I-I don't know what to say." Harleen responded as she helplessly laid out on the cold and hard table, looking up at Joker with such sadness and regret in her now dull blue eyes. She understood what he was trying to tell her - with his point being very well voiced in his own way. If something doesn't work the first time, then maybe you shouldn't use the same methods over and over again. Harleen didn't mean to keep Joker doped up on every drug that was prescribed - even the side effects were not fully known with certain meds that he was given. Even the electroshock therapy that was administered to Joker just a handful of times, Harleen wasn't the one to be there when it had happened... but she did approve of such barbaric treatment on her patient... until she realized that it was only hurting him. Harleen had hoped that Joker would understand, or even possibly forgive her when she had forbid any other drug or shock therapy in the recent month. "Please let me go."

"Let you go?" Joker repeated. He scratched his chin as if he were thinking deeply - his blue eyes were brighter than usual, and sparked with a certain excitement as he suddenly gave her a huge smile. "Let you go? That is an idea, but when it was my turn to get my brains scrambled, prod me with needles, or shove pills down my throat... you didn't let me go, did you?"

"I'm sorry." Harleen's words bled with regret, "I was only trying to help."

Joker understood Harleen - for he truly heard the change of tone in her voice. And for a split second, he almost wanted to release Harleen of her restraints and never look back again, forgetting that Doctor Harleen Quinzel ever existed. But Joker had worked too hard, and endured too much absurd medical treatment to let this simply pass on by... and besides, he still found this woman captivating. Joker really wanted to see if Harleen Quinzel truly had a dormant side to her - as he had predicted the first time he laid eyes on her. The _FIRST_ time - nine years ago. Yes, that is why he leaned over the scared and lost young Harleen at the bank heist, and gave her the best advice she would hear in her lifetime. He didn't know if he would see that young girl again, but Joker had seen something in Harleen, and he gravitated to it. Joker hated it, yet he couldn't simply ignore it. It just all fell into place when Joker's new Doctor was who he was least expecting.

Joker growled over Harleen, as his mind was starting to work overtime - he had to push her further, "I know. I'm sure you thought electrifying my brains or poking me with syringes was the best way to fix all of my many problems. But I've got to ask you a question, Doctor. Did it ever cross your itty-bitty brain that maybe you could spend just a little extra time and come up with a better solution than charring my gray matter into instant _pudding_? Or giving me such delusions that kept me wide awake for days on end, because my body reacted to an unknown drug? What do you think, Dearie? Would taking a little more time have proven a better way to go?"

"Yes. Yes, I should have. But, that is why I took you away from all of that. I swear, I hoped that you would forgive me, Mister J." Harleen stammered, willing to agree with anything Joker said, but more or so that she spoke the truth. "I mean, if that's what you think. I was just trying to do the right thing."

Joker frailed his arms about, his hands waving back and forth - puppet-like, uncontrolled - as if the hinges that held them to his wrists had broken. "Doing the right thing, huh? You tossed me into a black hole of rage and confusion. Is that the medicine you practice, Doctor Quinzel? Is that _'doing the right thing'_ for all of your special patients?" Joker then balled up his fists so tight, that his knuckles turned white. He then brought them down hard on each side of Harleen's head as she squinted her eyes closed - and the table shook under the force.

When Harleen opened her eyes again, Joker now held a leather strap in one hand. With his other, he traced a long pinky nail along Harleen's now dry lips as he continued to taught her with what was to come, "Now I'm throwing you into the same black hole," Joker said, as he stroked Harleen's face with the leather strap and then rested it over her closed mouth.

Harleen couldn't take it anymore, and wondered if Joker was in fact, finally going to kill her. But why would he do that when he put so much effort into keeping tabs on her? Having his men follow her, protect her from unwanted male or female attention? The way Joker reacted to Channing and Flimmel? Harleen hadn't seen Joker kill anyone else but the two men who had assaulted her - so why just them? And when they had shared their first kiss... Joker seemed to enjoy it just as much as her - was she mistaken? "What are you gonna do? You gonna kill me, Mister J?" Harleen finally asked.

"Oh! I'm not gonna kill ya." Joker cracked with deep undertone in his voice as he leaned in closer - still clenching the leather strap in both hands, "I'm just gonna hurt ya... really, really bad."

Joker was still trying to break her - Harleen thought to herself. "Good." Harleen boldly spat. "Because I can take it."

"Open up, doll," Joker said as he pushed the strap between her lips. "And bite hard. This is so you don't break those perfect porcelain-capped teeth when the juice hits your brain. You'll thank me later."

Joker then stepped back, then gave a wide smile and laughed his approval, "You are so going to be my Mona Lisa, and I, for one, could not be more proud."

Frost handed Joker the two paddles that had been sitting on the small steel instrument table. Joker made a show of smearing them with conductive jelly, and then placed them on Harleen's temples.

Harleen knew what was coming, and Joker's slow, deliberate moves only prolonged her horror. When Joker smiled at her... with that gleaming, murderous, yet dazzling smile... Harleen screamed through the leather strap.

"Forget you ever met me." Joker hissed, but Harleen knew that she never could. Harleen was in love with the man.

Harleen then convulsed as 450 volts seared through her brain. Her face contorted in impossible agony. Her teeth ground into the leather. Joker was right - if he hadn't stuffed the thick leather strap into her mouth, her teeth would have cracked as she smashed them together.

Joker watched Harleen Quinzel disappear as each cell in her body was assaulted with electricity.

Harleen writhed in agony. She was mewling with pain, yet somehow asked for more. Pain and pleasure. More pain than pleasure. More pleasure than pain. Until she heard the machine suddenly go dead. Her teeth stopped chewing the leather strap, which was almost completely shredded into ragged strings, and then her body went slack. A single tear fell from Harleen's open eyes.

Joker let the last remains of Harleen's tears get sopped up in her laboratory smock and then exhaled a long, satisfied sigh. He set aside the paddles and took a set of street clothes from Frost.

"Good looking lady, Boss," Frost commented. "She really liked you."

Joker slipped on the newly pressed crimson shirt, buttoned it, and then checked himself out in the med-unit mirror. "It would never have worked." Joker replied. "She kept trying to fix me." Joker's own words stung. He didn't know why, but he brushed it off the best he could.

Frost took his Glock and screwed it into Harleen's ear. "Who said you were broken?"

" _Don't_ touch the lady, Frost." Joker barked, as Frost quickly pulled his Glock away from Harleen's head and holstered his weapon. "Undo her restraints, will ya? That vegetable isn't going nowhere."

Joker still didn't know why he felt an over bearing protectiveness over Harleen... because she was now gone. Joker didn't think that this woman would pull out of such torturous pain that he just inflicted on her... surely, he had done some mental damage to Harleen. But Joker now didn't have to worry anymore about Doctor Harleen Quinzel. She would definitely be hospitalized for the rest of her life... or so that's what Joker thought.

Joker then slipped on his diamond-shaped 'J' pinky ring, and then he smiled... not an ordinary smile. Not a smile to make someone laugh with him. No. This was 'The Smile'. The corners of his mouth slid up his face into a vast, deadly rictus - with metal teeth flashing. This was a hyena's smile. A smile that could kill. It was a smile that Frost had seen before. One that frightened the hell out of him.

"Come on Jonny-boy!" Joker cackled, "You have what I originally came here for?"

Frost held up a rolled stack of papers that looked like they had been dragged through dirt and soot - yet still fully intact.

"I can't believe I stayed in this shit hole for this long just for those. Better be worth it." Joker mumbled, "Times-a-ticken! Let's get out of here."

As the rest of Joker's men started to exit, with Frost close behind them, Joker couldn't resist but to slightly turn back to bestow one last glance at the beautiful creature that he had just broken.

Harleen limply laid upon the table, with her eyes half closed. Joker watched as her chest slowly moved up and down.

 _'Good, she's still alive.'_ Joker thought to himself, _'Her breaths are shallow, but she's still breathing. Not that her life would be worth living now.'_

A deep grunt escaped Jokers throat as he turned away from Harleen's delicate figure, and proceeded to walk away untouched by the Gotham PD, (whom were fashionably late to the crime scene, as per usual), and especially no Batman to disrupt his plans.

Though, at this time, Joker felt that a good beating from Batman was what he desired in this moment - for Joker still did not know that alien feeling gnawing at his heart as he left Arkham Asylum.

* * *

Harleen laid upon the table. She didn't know how long she had been laying there. Harleen's body didn't fully comply with her brain, as she still couldn't move. Only half conscious, she could hear the faint sirens outside, as well as distant voices - but couldn't tell where they were coming from. Slipping in and out of conciseness, Harleen felt different. A whirlpool of vast darkness seemed to surround her, and every emotion was turned off. Suddenly, Harleen found herself wanting to giggle at the sheer fact that she was still alive. She had done it. She had beaten Joker's cruel game - and she sparked with a superior high.

But this feeling was different. Harleen's senses felt as if they were sharpened - and elated. Feeling as if her brain were a Frisbee, Harleen tickled at the spinning, yet un-nauseating feeling that rippled through her veins. Instead of damaging anything, it was as if the electricity had instead become one with Harleen's body, and flowed through her bloodstream.

 _'Hello, madness, my old friend.'_

Harleen Quinzel ceased to exist, but she gave birth to a far greater insanity than even the Joker anticipated... or could hope for from the once venerable Doctor Quinzel.

Harley Quinn was very much _alive_ , and she was more than ready to give thanks to her Puddin... as Joker did emphasize that she had turned his brains into pudding, what more of a perfect nick name than Puddin - as that's _exactly_ what he made hers.


	15. Chapter 15

**Authors Note:**

 **Loooong wait, I know. Will not happen again, I promise! This is a little bit of a slow chapter, as we need to get past the recovery time for Harley! But alas! Here is HARLEY QUINN! Reborn! Next chapter is already almost done, so it should come quick.**

 **Also, I have an entire plot already written out for this, but I am willing to take ideas and requests because... why not?! It's fun!**

 **Again, thank you for the follows, favorites, and reviews. It feeds my creative fire!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 15**

As the dim florescent glow of the already dying lights from the ceiling lightly flickered, Harley's eyelids fluttered - straining to gain clear vision. Failing to make out the surroundings, her unstable eyes then remained closed, as she subconsciously tried making out the fainted voices nearby. Her back ached as Harley felt the cold steel beneath her - confirming that she had not yet left the table in Arkham where Joker had left her.

 _Left her_... did he really just leave without her? The thought pained at Harley's heart more than the trauma that was inflicted upon her still limp body.

How long had she been lying there? Why hasn't help arrived yet? An array of mixed feelings spread over Harley as her mind was trying to catch up. Frustration flooded over her as she sluggishly tried to listen for Joker's presence. To no avail, she truly wanted to believe that he didn't just abandon her.

Fiddling her fingers, Harley finally noticed that she was no longer restrained to the hard table. She winced as she lifted her hands and cupped them over her face.

It felt surreal to her - as if she was graced with even more sensory throughout her hands. Harley could feel the fine fibers of her delicate skin. The smooth and velvet feel of her own flesh gave Harley a twinge of divine rapture. She knew that her body was in pain, but it was like her mind instinctively started to adapt to such burning affliction - that Harley could easily ignore it. This was new - almost as if she were _reborn_.

When Harley was subjected to the electroshock from Joker - it's almost like the electricity never left her brain - molding it into a survival machine.

Movement to the side caught Harley's attention - but she wasn't fully awake, nor completely mobile - as her body was still slowly, but surely, coming back to reality. Gently removing her hands from her face, Harley once again struggled to see - but she could only make out blurry shapes. Two dark silhouettes towered over her - almost like the nightmarish creatures of her past had finally formed into flesh and blood.

 _'Did I finally succumb to my demons?'_ Harley blandly thought to herself - almost willing to accept her fate.

One of the figures put a rubber-like gloved hand upon her sweat glistened forehead - so the touch was instant cold that rushed through Harley's pale face. She tried to strain away impulsively from the touch, as it screamed _danger_ , and she instinctively reacted. But with the little strength that Harley had, her efforts to avoid the touch - failed. The figure was certainly masculine, that much she could tell. The over bearing figure kneeled down even closer - examining her. Two pointed spikes protruded from the top of his head - almost as if they were ears, like a Vampire Bat... or maybe horns?

Harley's lips cracked as she gently parted them, her voice broke as her vocal cords struggled to come back to life, "A-are you the Devil?"

A rumbling and deep voice came from the figure that towered over her - as he removed his cold hand from her forehead, he turned to face the other silhouette, "She will be fine. I'm surprised, actually. Joker didn't take her life like the rest - we will have to keep an eye on her. She might be of use."

Was she hearing this right? And before she could ask anything, the figure walked away - only to have the slightly leaner dark figure move over her.

"Harleen? Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

 _'This 'demon' knew her name!_ ' Harley thought. Though, this voice was softer, familiar... almost comforting. But not as comforting as the soothing voice of Joker's. Harley almost _NEEDED_ to hear Joker's voice. Full of authority, confidence, intellect, and insanity. It was her shield. The perfect combination.

"M-my name..." Harley mumbled.

The obscure figure leaned in closer to hear her better, putting his ear over Harley's mouth.

"My name is.." And Harley spoke in such a sinister undertone, it almost sounded inhuman, " _Har-ley_."

Harley's whisper spewed more of a distorted hiss as she spoke of her new name. This instantly drove the silhouette jerking backward in discomfort. Though she couldn't see the expression of this 'demon', but Harley was confident that she just dominated over this threat. With that in mind, Harley started to giggle. A deep, menacing, cracking, and yet feminine giggle that would make anyone or anything uncertain of this woman's sanity.

Before both figures completely disappeared, Harley thought that the leaner silhouette muttered, "You'll be okay. I'm here for you." But she wasn't sure. Harley's giggle then turned into a coughing fit, as her body was still mending itself.

The fainted voices that she had heard earlier were getting louder, and obnoxious blue and red flashing lights filled the room now. Suddenly, Harley felt the bile work it's way up to her throat. Thankful that a sink was beside the table she laid upon - Harley quickly rolled over, forcing her head into the sink, and proceeded to vomit. Slightly arching her back to get the last of the bile out - Harley turned on the sink, and splashed her face with luke warm water. But before she could enjoy with how good the warm water felt on her face, Harley then collapsed to the floor in a sitting position - with her back against the wall.

Gotham City Police and a fully armed SWAT team stormed inside the room. Harley was too much out of it to care - when she felt herself being lifted onto a gurney - and then briskly loaded into an ambulance.

Harley once again, drifted off into a deep slumber - her last thoughts were of her finding Joker. Her Puddin - and hopefully... he would be proud of his creation. Hopefully, he had only left his Harley behind so that she could get the medical help that she desperately needed. _Hopefully_.

The two paramedics that quickly started to work their medicine on Doctor Harleen Quinzel - stared at discomfort at the young woman whom laid before them. And even though she was unconscious, an animated facet smile was spread across Harley's beautiful yet torn face.

The middle-aged man looked at his comrade as he placed an oxygen mask over Harley's mouth and nose, "Geez, what the hell did the Joker do to her?"

The other slightly younger looking paramedic responded - looking just as uncomfortable as his partner, yet he had a faint tint of pity in his voice, " I don't know. And I hope to not know of the horrors this poor woman has witnessed."

"But..." The middle-aged paramedic mumbled, "What could she _possibly_ be smiling about?!"

Both men didn't say a word, sitting in the awkward silence - all the way until they arrived at Gotham City Hospital.

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY HOSPITAL**

 **TUESDAY 4:28pm**

The structure of the Gotham City Hospital was just like any other building in the megalopolitan. Massive, surrounded by a fabricated landscape, and not hard to miss. The inside - glowed a bright brisk white that stung the eyes of anyone first stepping into the building. A labyrinth of hallways would turn any non-employee around if it weren't for the directional signs posted at every turn.

Harley restfully laid in hospital room 28. The faint beeping rhythm of her heart monitor caused her to gradually awake. Her eyes started to flutter open, and this time - her vision cleared quicker than when she was in Arkham Asylum laying on the steel electroshock table.

 _The Electroshock table! Arkham! Joker! Puddin?_

With those thoughts instantly flooding Harley's mind, she shot straight up in bed, spiking her heart monitor to uneven beats. The brisk and sudden reaction caused her head to fog - as Harley's big blue eyes slowly took in her surroundings, and tried to catch her breath. Scanning the quiet and intensely bright hospital room, Harley finally realized where she was.

As the last memories of being in Arkham started to come back to her, Harley deeply groaned out loud and fell back into her stiff hospital bed. Her head sunk into the fluffy eggshell-colored pillows as she wondered if the authorities suspected her of anything. The camera footage was destroyed with the codes that she had given to Joker - so there was no possible way of them finding out that way. Witnesses were surely dead. The only hole in her deadly escapade - was of her stealing the M16 out of the back of Bruce Wayne's car... if he even noticed that it was gone.

Turning her head slightly to the left, Harley lost her breath again. On the table beside her sat a stuffed animal. A light brown teddy bear with a single moon embroidered on the side of it.

It was Harley's once prized possession. And a gift that she had given to someone who gave her the best advice that a young girl could ever be graced with. This was the same teddy bear that Harley gave Joker when he was in Arkham Asylum.

Harley then frantically looked around her small hospital room once more, as if Joker would suddenly materialize in front of her, hoping that she had missed something more. He was here... Joker was here to see her. That made Harley's heart flutter with joy. But how did he come in unnoticed? Did he really come to see her? But then how else would the teddy bear have gotten there? Joker's men?

Harley slumped down further into her bed and sighed, as she took the bear and cuddled it under her neck. Joker had left her with even more questions than answers... and possibly a broken heart. She still didn't want to admit it, but she had feelings for this man. A man who was one of Gotham's top crime lords, one who was feared by every citizen and beyond the city walls. But Joker didn't scare Harley - not anymore at least. He made her nervous at times, yes - but she had disturbingly found a safe place within his presence. Something that she did not expect to happen. Everyday, it was about building a practice that enabled her to try and forget that she was afraid. What was simply fascination - turned into an obsession.

Suddenly, a light ' **KNOCK KNOCK'** on her hospital door interrupted her fantasies.

"C-come in." Harley's voice cracked, and speaking aloud made her realize just how chapped her lips really were... and she was incredibly thirsty.

Dick walked in. A big flashy smile erupted across his face when he noticed Harley awake and apparently well. His dark gray suit looked as if he had come on his work day to visit Harley. He cradled a stunning silver vase filled with radiant blue Iris flowers in both of his hands - as he pushed the door open with his arm.

"Well! Good evening, Sunshine!" Dick beamed, "It's good to see you're still with us, Harleen. We were truly worried."

"We?" Harley hesitantly questioned.

"Oh, your co-workers, your friend - Angie, the media... me."

Harley couldn't stop the blush that formed in her cheeks, but she easily hid it by huffing in a breath of air, and then blowing it upward back into her face to cool it off. "I'm sure - ya were just fine." Harley giggled, "And ya didn't haffta do that." Harley motioned to the flowers as Dick set them on the table beside her, "I'ma tough cookie, ya know. And what's with you and blue?" She smiled. "They're beautiful though. Thank you."

Dick grinned, and cocked his head as he curiously stared at Harley. "Have you always had that accent? This is the first time I've heard it. What is it... Brooklyn?"

Harley rapidly blinked her eyes at Dick, as if trying to understand what he was saying. " I dunno what you're sayin'..." But Harley trailed off her sentence as she did in fact notice the way she was talking. It was as if she couldn't help it.

Dick noticed the confusion that suddenly spread across Harley's face. "Hmmm... well, considering that you were juiced with more than 450 volts of constant electricity to your brain..." Dick continued as he sat in the chair in front of Harley's bed, "Your Doctor concludes that you were held under that electroshock for more than a couple of seconds at a time... four times more than what the normal electroshock therapy patient endures – to be exact. It's actually a miracle that you're not dead... or a vegetable."

Harley looked down with a pained face. _'Did Joker really try to kill her?'_ She shook her head at the thought. _'No, no, no, no, no. Why would he spend so much time having his men look for her when she had run away from him at the asylum? Why didn't he try to kill her during any of their sessions? He had plenty of times... Joker was just testing her.'_

Harley reassured herself - Yes, just another test. And she passed it.

Dick could see Harley deep in thought, but he assumed that she was still questioning her sudden newfound accent. "You had multiple seizures while in the hospital." Dick began again and caught Harley's attention once more, "Foreign accent syndrome - known as FAS, is a speech disorder that causes a sudden change to speech so that a native speaker is perceived to speak with a 'foreign' accent. FAS is most often caused by damage to the brain - caused by a stroke or traumatic brain injury... I think it's safe to say... that you've suffered some brain damage."

Thinking of his last words as a bit harsh for a woman who had just woken up from an obvious traumatic experience, Dick instantly retracted his tone, "And I mean the best brain damage that a pretty lady could ever have."

Harley giggled, and Dick smiled in response.

"How are ya medically inclined?" Harley asked.

"I've done some schooling myself. You're not the only Doctor potential in this room." Dick's ego shined through his smile.

"Of course you are. What hasn't Mistah Grayson done?"

"Horseback riding. I dislike Horses. The motion of riding - looks nauseating. And the way those 900 pound creatures just stare at you with those beady little eyes makes m-"

"Wait..." Harley interrupted, as a thought occurred to her, "How long have I been here?"

"It's Tuesday. You've been asleep for about 3 days."

Harley pierced her lips and inhaled deeply. "I think it's time for me to get goin'." Harley started as she went to rip the IV needle from her arm.

Dick rushed up to Harley's side and grabbed her wrist, yanking it away from pulling the needle out. "Oh, no, no you don't young lady. Not until the Doctor says you're good to go."

"You're not my Doctor." Harley spat, but regrettably noticed how irritable her tone was. "I-I'm sorry. Long week."

"Don't be sorry. I can only imagine. So... what exactly happened at Arkham? First you were at the Gala Party, then you just disappeared. Mister Wayne was a little worried. He expressed that you vanished when he was giving you the grand tour. Now you're in the hospital because of that asshole Clown basically tortured you!"

It almost sounded like Dick was being protective, hurt, and yet... nosey. Harley didn't like it. Especially calling her Puddin an 'asshole Clown'. She didn't feel like starting an argument, nor did she want anyone suspecting her of breaking Joker out of Arkham by suspiciously defending him every time someone insulted him... especially after what kind of torture she had endured at the hands of Joker - so Harley tried changing the subject.

"Wait, Bruce Wayne was worried about me? Ha! What a shmuck. I didn't know that the 'grand tour' involved showing off his vehicle." Harley giggled at the thought, but Dick pierced his lips in concern. Here was this woman who had been through a traumatic event, giggling to herself.

Harley noticed Dick's ridged body posture and cleared her throat. _'He must think that I suffered more brain damage than I'm letting on.'_ She thought to herself amusingly. Instantly changing her mood to match the atmosphere in the already small room, she hesitantly asked, "Has... has anyone else been in my room? To come visit me, I mean." Harley clenched the teddy bear under her chin ever harder.

"Well... anyone that comes into the Hospital to visit these rooms here, you _MUST_ sign in at the front desk. And besides... security is around your door as a precaution, as you can understand... and, uh - the media has been dying to interview you - forewarning. I've been here every day, hoping for you to wake. But... I'll go check for you. Why do you ask? Do you think... _he_ came to..."

"No. No!" Harley quickly interrupted him. "I'm just curious. Remember the 'complicated' man in my life?" She raised her hands and quoted her fingers to emphasize 'complicated'. "Just him. I'm just wondering."

Dick instantly looked a little upset with the mention of another man in Harley's life. _Good_ \- she thought. As handsome, nice, charming, and rich Dick was... he just wasn't Harley's type - and she didn't want to lead him on. That much he deserved. And she had a feeling that Dick was someone that you wanted to keep as a close contact.

Dick nodded his head in approval. But before he left, he promptly added, "You'll be okay." he reassured, "I'm here for you."

His last words struck Harley like deja vu, but she couldn't quite place it. Weird.

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY**

 **THURSDAY 11:02am**

After Dick confirmed that no one had come to visit Harley in the hospital except for Angie - the Doctor's at Gotham City Hospital wanted to keep Harley longer, as she was considered a very rare case that they found absolutely fascinating. The functioning of her brain was now different than any other human brain that they've come across. Harley had Neurons and Synapses connecting to other dormant Synapses that sent even stronger electrical waves through her system. The few seizures that she had when first brought to the hospital - may have restored some neuroconnections, or reconnected nerves that were "short-circuited." Not only were some of her memories scrambled, but she also had _new_ memories. Harley could swear that she has never done gymnastics - but her brain is also telling her otherwise. It was an odd, yet alluring battle that she would fight within her own head - trying to decide what was fact and what was fiction. Though, this condition was not unheard of - it was very rare... and for the most part, harmless. That is - until after pulling an almost impossible stunt at the hospital out of curiosity – Harley accomplished a complete back flip in her small hospital room. She almost broke her back when her body cried in protest, as it was not used to such flexibility - which confirmed, that she was inflicted with memories that had never existed before her shock treatment.

If she were a gymnast, like her mind was claiming that she was, her body would have been trained in such an art. But it wasn't... she only possessed the will and the knowledge of how to do such fluid movements. But a body could always be conditioned with time… and this was going to be her new sport.

As insane as this was - Harley took these newfound memories and knowledge as a gift. A gift that Joker never intended to give - and yet, the same electricity that had broken many patients at Arkham Asylum, and even people around the world - had forged to Harley in such a mysterious and deadly way. It was unheard of for centuries – and she was taking it fairly well.

Since Harley declined at possibly being poked and prodded at with needles, and god knows what else - the hospital staff insisted on just one day of monitoring... and of course, promises of frequent check-ups and medication. A way to poke and prod at her slowly; overtime - so that she wouldn't notice... but she wasn't stupid.

That day has come and gone, and Harley thankfully rests in her cozy apartment. She's wrapped herself in a big fluffy blanket - whilst curled on the couch - resembling a human burrito.

It was starting to get cold in Gotham, as winter was quickly approaching. The days were getting shorter, and the nights were getting longer.

Rest was all that was on Harley's mind. Not even the fact that Joker was out and about, and knew exactly where she lived didn't even phase her. She knew that she needed to move out of this apartment… and soon. But Harley was too exhausted to even think about moving - especially after numerous efforts to continuously dodge and avoid the media.

The police, however, were not avoidable. As soon as she was released early this morning, Harley was escorted to the Gotham City Police Department to fill out her statements - written and verbal.

The police bought every word. At least they seemed they did. That was good enough for Harley. All she wanted to do was go home, and rest. She needed it if she were to go look for Joker. Because she hadn't heard, nor seen him or his men yet. Harley thought for sure she would've been rampaged by now... but it was almost as if she were abandoned.

She would _NOT_ be abandoned. After everything she did for Joker. After expressing how she felt. After everything that she's risked! Yes, he protected her from other inmates in his break out... even extracted revenge on the co-workers that had made her life hell.

Harley then had the most insane thought. a stunt that would take some cunning planning. It was morbid in a way... but she _had_ to _have_ it...

* * *

 **JESTER KANE**

 **5:12 pm**

The Jester Kane rumbled to life - even on early Thursday evenings. There wasn't a down day or night at the Jester Kane, unless they were closed - which was on rare occasion.

The packed dance floor of swaying bodies moved with the loud pounding of the blaring music. The two-story club glittered with vivid blue and white lights that ricocheted off of the stunning crystal chandeliers that hung overhead in various parts of the glorified architecture. Anyone, even the regulars were in constant 'aw' with such a prismatic building structure. One of the finest clubs in Gotham...

And yet, there stood Joker in his secluded VIP room located directly in between the two floors of the club – un-amused. The room was only accessible through one specific elevator - and you needed to get past the heavy security to even get a glimpse of the entrance. The room was unknown, except for Joker's trusted security. If you were looking up (or down) from within the club, you would just think of it as a big mirror.

The spacious VIP room had a view of both floors through a one way bulletproof glass window - which covered the entire front wall. The plush red-velvet carpet molded to each and every step that you took, almost as if caressing the soles of your feet through your shoes. The sheer silk curtains and old fashioned furniture seeped of the same blood-red color as the carpet, traced with golden trim - giving the room a sense of elegance and royalty.

This was Joker's first night out since successfully breaking out of Arkham. He needed to make his rounds, make his appearances, and business must go on.

Standing in front of the massive window with a full view of his club, Joker took a tender sip of whiskey from the crystal glass that he held in his hand. His black suit with glittering gold pin stripes fit snug around his defined physique. Gripping the collar of his shirt, he tugged it loose, only to end up unbuttoning it half way to expose his compelling white skin, littered with ink work.

Joker was a little on edge, and he didn't understand why. The past few days, he had been on the low down - just to throw the Batman off of his trail. Though, having the Batman around was personally insanely fun - Joker didn't want to be thrown back into Arkham so soon.

 _Arkham._

The word brought an eagerness that once again, Joker didn't understand - which was then followed by a surge of temper.

Joker stretched his neck up and protruded his jaw forward as if to fight whatever secluded battle that was erupting within his head. Just then, a flash of long blonde hair from the first floor of the club caught his attention. Joker almost dropped his glass at the sight, and just about pressed his face against the thick window - trying to get a better look. The female turned around, only to reveal that it wasn't who he thought it was. It wasn't Harley.

Harley. _Harley Quinn._

The name sent a sharp stab at his gut - confirming why thinking of Arkham gave him such inflamed thoughts. That beautiful creature was a curse to him... and he _hated_ her for it.

The low rumble in his throat matched that of the bass of the music thumping through the club. Joker had no clue what state Harley was currently in, but had an idea. He had recalled his men from surveying her - after he had one of them deliver the teddy bear to her hospital room that she had given him. Joker didn't know why he did that - it's not like she would notice it. The man he sent to plant the teddy bear confirmed her still being in a coma. Exactly how Joker predicted her condition would be. Harley wouldn't wake up. He had successfully broken her. It was a shame... the woman had spirit, courage, humor... maybe even the potential to commit murder. Especially after the bold stunt of breaking him out of Arkham. The way she released her outburst of frenzy by spilling Channing's blood with a simple stab of a pen in Joker's defense. God, she was beautiful.

Shaking his head as if to reboot his mind, Joker brought his glass to his lips, tipped it completely upside down – and finishing the ruminates of whiskey. Setting the empty glass down on the small table beside him, a loud pounding erupted on the door to his VIP lounge. A few seconds passed when Frost calmly stepped inside, with another younger man trailing behind him.

Joker turned to face them, whilst colliding his hands together creating a loud clap. "Jonny Boy! Please bring me some good news to _LIFT_ my spirits _ss_!" Joker beamed an impressive animated smile that flashed every piece of metal in his mouth. "Or-" He continued, "Give me someone to kill." Joker's lips twitched as if he preferred his second choice.

Frost was about to speak when the young man came burling from behind Frost, bumping past him in the process with an excited look on his face, "I did it!" The young man expressed, "I brought the news, Sir Joker! I di-"

"Ah, that'll do." Joker chuckled as he reached for his purple and gold plated pistol with such quickness, nobody saw it coming. Joker's trigger finger squeezed with determined pleasure, and the bullet hit the young man directly between the eyes.

The man's body dramatically fell to his knees, and then face first into the carpet.

Joker inhaled deeply whilst putting the heated barrel of the gun to his temple - ignoring the burning pain that it inflicted. He closed his eyes, basking in the thrill of bloodshed. If it weren't for the low rumble of music echoing throughout the room, Joker would fill the ears of anyone within a 5 foot radius with an unnerving purr that tickled his vocal cords.

Swaying slightly from side to side, Joker then holstered his pistol - satisfied temporarily.

Frost stood obediently, completely at ease in his generic black suit, waiting for his Boss to come to.

"Now," Joker whispered lightly, while waving his wrists in circles, "What is it that you wanted to tell me?"

Frost walked over to one of the many tables that were littered with decorative candles. He casually pulled a rolled up stack of sooty papers from under his blazer, and placed them upon the hard wood surface. "Your prize, Boss. The only one in existence, and you got it."

Ah, yes - the prize that Joker graciously earned. The sole reason why he _wanted_ to be thrown into Arkham. The prize that he was after the entire time he was in there... well, at least one of the prizes.

Joker moved to the table with fluid movement; his stride long and graceful. He smoothed his vibrant green hair back with his hand before he started to unroll the dirty papers. He spread the papers out - whilst examining them. The diagrams of tunnels, maps, machinery, instructions, and directions sprawled before his eager blue eyes. The main label read:

 **Gotham City HVAC Systems.**

Joker threw his head back and belched out a guttural laugh that dominated even over the humming of the music in the club. "And Harvey wanted to use _this_ for robbing banks!" Joker mocked. "Harvey, Harvey, Har- _vey_. Two-Faced, poor sap! I've got bigger plans for this than that side show!" Joker chuckled to himself as he turned to face Frost. "No offense Jonny, but you can't know the plan just yet." Joker beamed, "People can disappoint you... or... they can _surprise_ you!"

Joker inhaled deeply as he brought both of his hands up to glide through his slick emerald hair; leaning back whilst closing his eyes once more as if to douse in his own words, "True genius lies not in doing the extraordinary things..." Joker flashed his penetrating blue eyes open, and then leaned forward and tapped his index finger upon the scattered papers in front of him. "But in doing ordinary things extraordinarily _well_."

Frost cupped his hands together below his waist, "I'm sure whatever it is, Boss - that it's brilliant."

Suddenly, one of Joker's men came staggering through, "Boss! News is -" But the man noticed Joker's hard change of disposition, and realized that he had just barged in. Quickly trying to regain his respect, he stuttered, "I-I'm sorry, Boss - the door was open, and I, uh... heard the news of.. thought you wanted to kn-"

Joker put a hand on his hip, turned his back on him - while raising the other flapping it in the air around his head as if to simulate that the man was nothing more than a headache.

The man swallowed hard, "Just thought you wanted to know... Harleen Quinzel is awake and well... and was already sent home."

Joker stopped dead in his tracks, his face subconsciously contorted into what seemed like pain or pleasure, but couldn't tell. A whirl of lights from the club below flashed in and out of his barren eyes, causing the effect of going in and out of reality. The thin line of sanity evaporated in a matter of seconds. The sudden rush of emotion brought his hundreds of personalities to mold back into one.

Joker whipped around so fast, that even himself didn't know that he had pulled his shiny purple pistol out again, and pointed it at the confused man.

Joker tilted his head to the side, "Ah, I do apologize." He flashed his metal grin at the man and lowered his pistol. "Jonny." Joker growled, "Bring the car around. Let's go for a ride."


	16. Chapter 16

**Authors Note:  
**

 **Holy crap! So... after a LONG break - I am happy to say - that I am BACK!**

 **Long story short - My PC went through a traumatic accident. Thankfully, I still had my warranty, but I lost EVERYTHING that I had written. Chapters 16-20 were gone when I received my PC back as they had to wipe the drive.**

 **After that, I went through a bad writer's block. It was awful. And as of recent, I have had to dive deeper into these characters than ever before... and now I'll be placing updates in a timely manner!  
**

 **Thank you so much for your reviews, follows, and favorites! Let's get this show back on the road! This is just a warm up chapter! So please enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 16**

 **GOTHAM CITY**

 **6:00 PM**

The sun was starting to go down earlier in Gotham as the winter months deepened. With light slowly fading, Harley was already dressed for her first night out as a new woman...

As a miracle.  
As a predator and finally not prey.  
Her first night out in the chilly, dangerous, and crowded streets of Gotham...  
as _Harley Quinn_.

The name was already imprinted into her brain, coursed through her veins, and was permanently inscribed into her desperate soul.

Harley's black leggings hugged her defined legs - almost as if they were a second skin. Her emerald green low-cut top sparkled with sequence - surely to catch one's eye for attention. Harley lowered her gaze down to her shirt, as it gleamed back in the reflection of her playful eyes. She gently caressed the fabric as if it were a new born puppy; admiring the striking green color that instantly reminded her of someone.

Someone who she couldn't stop thinking of. Suddenly, Harley's facial features deflated as she brought her index finger ever so softly to caress her own lips as she whispered _'Joker'._ Almost as if she could touch the name that came out of her mouth... but failed miserably.

Was she abandoned? Did he care? Did he think she was dead? Why hasn't he even sent one of his men to make sure? Joker had left the teddy bear beside her hospital bed - the one she had given him back in Arkham... was that his way of saying 'goodbye'? Or 'I'm still here'?

Again, her over-thinking flooded her mind. Shaking her head to rid of the unwanted thoughts, Harley concentrated on the morbid prize she so very sought after. And the thought of her soon-to-own prize made Harley smile with such enthusiasm, she herself wouldn't recognize the woman she is now even a month ago. It felt great!

Feeling the intoxicating essence of freedom, mobility, and the spark of electricity that still ran through her follicles from nights ago - Harley danced and twirled with such fluid movement to the apartment door - feeling more alive than she's ever felt before. Her own victory dance, her own private symphony to whirl around to - just for her.

As she opened her door to leave, Harley was startled by a tall masculine figure blocking her door way; with his arm raised.

Now - on pure instinct - Harley jumped back and quickly took an obvious defensive stance, ready for this threat to reveal himself.

Dick Grayson stood there a little confused with Harley's sudden change in disposition. The once innocent and professional Doctor he had first come across, seemed like she was transforming into a ravenous lioness. Dick lowered his balled up fist, as he was just ready to knock on her door, and his handsome smile shone through Harley's stiff posture.

"Well hey there, Miss Quinzel!" Dick beamed, legitimately surprised to see this woman who had just suffered a violent attack only just days ago, looking as if she were to go out and have a good time already. "Shouldn't you be in bed resting or something? Like... eating ice cream and watching a hopelessly romantic TV series, or-?"

Harley chuckled softly at Dick's poor attempt of 'mothering' her. "Mistah Grayson, ya either had some really dramatic relationships, or ya had some overly lovesick sisters in the family. And besides," she beamed, "I much prefer serial killer documentaries."

Dick raised his eyebrows; his voice teasing, "How ironic, Miss Psychiatrist. I would've never guessed!"

"I told ya that I'm full of surprises."

Dick smirked and laughed at Harley's positive spirit. But he was still baffled as to what she could be possibly doing just shortly after a violent attack. Was he being nosy? Yes. But was he truly concerned for her? Absolutely.

"So where are you going on such short notice?" Dick pried.

"So what are ya doing here, eh?" Harley bickered as she animatedly put her hands on her hips.

"Well... someone has to check in on you, and make sure that you're alright. And what better qualified individual than myself?" Dick tried to match Harley's animation by extending both arms out, as if he were presenting himself to her.

His smile was truly genuine, but Harley's patience was wearing thin these days.

Composing herself for the sake of sparing her evening with questions from a man who had absolutely no authority over her (at least out of the work place), Harley forced a cheeky grin. "Some details are coming back to me from that night, Mistah Grayson. Little things here and there. So I thought I'd go to the police station and scribble them in my incident report before I forget. Things are a little fuzzy right now, ya know?" Harley curled her top lip up in frustration, as she was certainly telling the truth.

"I can give you a ride there." Dick offered.

"I think I can manage." Harley gave Dick her dazzling grin, hoping that she could charm her way out of this silly conversation. "But thank you! I must be goin though! My mind isn't gonna stay clear all the time!" She then tapped the side of her head, as if to mimic that her memory could escape her at any minute.

"That's what I'm afraid of." Dick chimed. "All joking aside though," Dick's face turned soft, "are you alright?"

Harley tilted her head to the side and slightly pouted, "Aw, Mistah Grayson." Harley cooed, as she reached out to caress Dick's face, "I am perfectly okay! Good as new. And I deeply appreciate your concern." Harley bit her bottom lip - confirming to herself that her last statement was a lie. Dick's constant interest in her was profoundly annoying. Slightly flattering, but all in all annoying.

This time Dick fabricated a smile, as his eyebrows formed a deeper V upon his forehead, "Okay. You call me if you need anything."

"Will do!"

"Let me at least walk you to your car. Just trying to be the smart-ass gentlemen that I am." Dick mused.

The most guttural laugh escaped Harley's lungs, sending Dick to slightly flinch, "Hahaha-HA." She was thoroughly amused with Dick's persistent disposition. Harley still barely knew this guy, and here he was - trying to babysit her. Yes, Dick was charming, rich, is Bruce Wayne's most trusted employer, good looking... And yet, there was something about him that Harley couldn't quite put her finger on. And that bothered her - considering her line of work. She didn't even know where this man lived - yet here he is, at her residence that she never shared with him in the first place. But of course he would know... he seemed to have his resources... just like Joker.

The thought of Joker snapped Harley back into attention. She then quickly pocketed her car keys, rested a pair of black wire-framed glasses upon her delicate nose, and walked out of the door with Dick close behind her.

Harley waltzed down to the street where her black and sleek Mercedes sat, climbed into the vehicle, and bid Dick a farewell by sticking her arm out of the window - and waved in an over-exaggerated manner.

Sure that her car was now out of sight, without blinking - Dick calmly pulled out his phone whilst keeping his eyes on the road. One touch of a button, and he brought the black device to his ear. "She's definitely not herself, which is probably from the electroshock... Or just plain shock mixed with denial. But keep a watchful eye out. I have a feeling someone might come looking for her if she's still alive after these few days. This could possibly turn into something bad."

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT**

The black Mercedes slowly pulled up and into the Gotham City Police station parking lot. Harley carelessly parked, and whipped her black knee-high combat boots out from the open car door. With the loud crunch of the rocky asphalt grinding against her steps, Harley momentarily stopped in front of the building to take in the sights around her.

The magnificent and historic building was bright among the other small shops that littered around it. The busy streets echoed with blaring car horns, ear piercing sirens, the repetitive thumping of dozens of footsteps against the pavement, and the faint scent of exhaust that invaded your nostrils.

The letters, **'GCPD'** glowed through the smog, high above the old building that you couldn't miss. Harley tilted her head back, jaw slacked, to fully intake the massive structure, as she had never been inside before. When the police took her first vague report of what had happened in Arkham Asylum - it was in the hospital right before she was released. Never would she thought of stepping into this hell hole filled with dozens of aloof people in uniforms, whom only acted as if they abide by the law.

Harley's experience with the Gotham City Police is from them coming and going throughout Arkham. They were nothing but savages. Dirty cops consisted of about seventy percent of the force - and she knew this for a fact. If you take a job, and represent what you stand for - do it right. Kind of like Joker. Joker dominated Gotham's underworld. He may be one of the world's biggest crime lords... But at _least_ he stays true to his word and identity.

Harley then realized that Joker was stinging at her thoughts once again. She squeezed her eyes shut, and inhaled deeply. She would go looking for him after this precious little stunt that she was about to pull. Her mind was so wild with assumption, that it caused her senses to resort to anxiety. She _HAD_ to know if her Puddin cared or not. Because she would _NOT_ be thrown away like trash. Not after everything she had done and gone through for that Clown. And even right now, with what she was about to do - was because of him. She wanted something that had a personal significance related to _him_.

It was sick.  
It was disturbing.  
It was _exciting_ to her.

Inhaling deeply, Harley put on her best faux smile, and made sure there was a dazzle in her game-some eyes as she approached the big glass double doors, and swung one open to walk inside.

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY**

Joker sat in the passenger's side of the black heavy-duty SUV as two other conspicuous vehicles followed close behind him. Joker was always sure to bring extra security for obvious reasons... He knew what he was doing was reckless; especially only just being free from Arkham Asylum so recently - as the media and those of authority were on high alert of his unknown whereabouts. But Joker couldn't hide that fact of wanting to see _his_ Harley.

Joker curled his top lip in agitation as he kept referring to Harley as _'his'_. But she _WAS_ his. Joker had successfully manipulated a young and witty Doctor. Her efforts of breaking him out of the Asylum, her protective bloodshed, and her stubbornness to keep coming back after everything that he threw at her. Even his actions were completely mysterious to him. Letting Doctors Channing and Flimmel - two insignificant excuses for human beings - pick and pry at Joker's patience. Joker did not know why he took such severe actions to end such vile human life... but he did. And it tickled his ever-so changing black heart.

Frost kept his eyes on the road as he drove, only to take very prompt glances in his Boss's direction. Only to be on guard just in case he had to react to any sudden commands Joker may bark. His Boss was a little on edge since he had come back from Arkham. And as one of Joker's most trusted henchman, Frost noticed this significantly.

It wasn't like Boss to be so distracted. Whatever happened in Arkham, must have been one hell of a trip for him. Probably something to do with his Doctor, Harleen Quinzel.

Obviously - as Boss dropped even the sooty rolled up papers he was just looking at before they bolted out of the club doors - the HVAC system blueprints and access codes to the entire city of Gotham. The one thing Joker had put so much effort into getting; the reason why he had gone to Arkham in the first place... Boss just dropped it all to chase after this Harleen Quinzel.

She must be one hell of a woman to catch his attention - because Frost had never seen Joker with a woman for more than  
twenty-four hours. It was either just business, or a blood lust... and most of the time, it was simply blood lust. And Frost didn't know if he should be worried or relieved - with not seeing Miss Quinzel a corpse yet. He decided he would stay neutral with the whole situation - which is why Jonny Frost is one hell of a soldier to Joker.

The cool gray leather interior squeaked with the freshness of brand-new. Joker's tendons popped out against his pale skin. He had no idea why he was so livid. Was it because his Harley Quinn wasn't brain dead as he had anticipated? Was it because Harley did in fact, survive his torment? He wanted to bring out a side of Harley that he knew lay dormant, he wanted to mold her into his own... but Joker didn't think that he would actually be successful. Or was he?

Joker had no clue as to what state Harley was truly in. She could possibly cower in fear when she sees him. And when she did - he was finally going to get rid of her! Joker caressed his purple and gold plated pistol that rested in the leather gun holster that hugged his back.

And what if she didn't show any ounce of distress?

An alien feeling over came Joker's senses, as if a jittery sensation erupted within his chest. Joker clenched his fists in response, as he didn't know what to make of this foreign burst of vulnerable psyche.

Stupid girl. Making him rush straight from his club, in the middle of business, and travel to her apartment... and all for what? Joker didn't understand his own actions. How did that work? The insane that is becoming insane? That was _insane_!

"Jonny-boy! Step on it, please! You drive like an old woman in Monday evening traffic!" Joker cackled.

His laugh was cut short though, as Joker scraped his silver grill together - emanating a deep, rich growl that escaped his throat. With an abrupt and swift movement, Joker tore off his black and gold blazer. The black dress shirt that was underneath, was already unbuttoned half way down his defined physique from his earlier agitation.

As the SUV came to a steady stop, Joker quickly flung his door wide open without closing it. Striding with such fluid movement towards Harley's apartment, Joker lifted both of the palms of his hands, and graciously smoothed the sides of his striking emerald hair back.

By now, the full moon was starting to emerge, and so Joker's black-suited men blended gracefully in the coming darkness. Like a personal army trained with phenomenal tactics - few stayed outside with the vehicles, while the rest silently followed their boss close behind - being extra careful to give him the space that he needed. Joker's presence ricochet of such animosity, that even Frost gave that little extra room as he hurried to his side.

Ascending to the tenth floor, two of Joker's men went to scurry in front of him to do him the favor of kicking in Harley's apartment door down. But before they could fully react, Joker graced himself the honor and lifted his shiny coal-colored dress shoe - and kicked the door with minor effort.

Harley's poor apartment door has endured quite a few occurrences, but the strength behind Joker's kick sent the door right off of it's hinges. His henchmen rushed past him, guns drawn, and quickly scanned every room and space of the small and dark apartment.

"All clear, Boss. It appears that she is not here." One man confirmed.

A low growl ripped from Joker's throat; breaking the unnerving silence. Flexing his fingers below his jawline, as if to compromise the declining situation, his voice bled with affliction, "Well, then... my Harley-girl is going to have qui- _te_ the _surprise_!" Joker's animated smile then graced his pale complexion, giving him a sinister glow that seemed to radiate within the moonlight pouring through the sliding glass doors of the room. "Fix that front door," Joker grunted, "I don't want my Dearie to get any other ideas."

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT**

The oval ceiling curved high above Harley as she strut to the front desk. The place looked more like a dirty warehouse where they just simply dumped steel desks in every space available - only to make a thin walkway in between each work station. It was an OCD nightmare! Harley grimaced at the thought.

She wasn't fully OCD - but she appreciated at least order within chaos. This wasn't even chaos - it was just a mess!

"Can I help you, Miss?" The white-haired older woman politely asked; gesturing in Harley's direction.

"Oh! Yes, Ma'am!" Harley smiled, "My name is Harley Qu- err, Harleen. Doctor Harleen Quinzel, I-..."

" _Ooohhh_! Yes, Doctor!" The receptionist interrupted, "You work for Arkham! Every one knows your brilliant work and how -" the woman cleared her throat and leaned over the counter as if she were sharing confidential information, she whispered "How you lived to tell the tale after that brutal night. How did you do it?"

Harley scrunched her face inward, like she had smelled something bad; confused with the older woman's bluntness. "Wha-what has the media been feeding the public now?"

"That you are lucky to be alive, Dear!" The woman seemed entertained by this, "That your treatment of the Joker had probably kept you alive. Good work, I say!"

Harley didn't notice, but her eyes became significantly wider - dumbfounded that she was possibly considered a celebrity now.

A giggle escaped Harley's lips, "Thank you, Mistah J."

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

Harley shook her head, cleared her throat, and shoved her sliding glasses back up her nose, "Err, ya don't say!"

The receptionist shook her head up and down enthusiastically.

"Well," Harley urged, almost basking in her new found fame, "Speaking of that _dreadful_ incident," she pierced her lips and frowned, over-acting as if the whole event was truly traumatizing... which, it was... but totally worth it in Harley's eyes. "My memory is finally coming to, and I'd like to add to my police report. If ya don't mind, Ma'am." Harley flashed a set of pearly-white teeth, just to ensure her authenticity.

"Oh. but of course! And you can call me, Mrs. Lagadale. It is truly an honor to be in the presence of such a fine and prestige Doctor of Gotham!"

As Mrs. Lagadale made a phone call to someone who could help Harley with what she needed, Harley enjoyed the new found glory. She could now get any job wherever she pleased. This was it - this is what she had been working towards since the day she first crossed paths with Joker in that bank heist over a decade ago.

 _'Joker'_. A faint voice echoed his name in the very depths of Harley's head. It was so clear sounding, that she looked around herself, as if to make sure that no one else was reading her mind. She let out a mild sigh as she would instantly trade this little fortune, just to be by Joker's side.

Harley already gave this world plenty of chances - her own family had betrayed her, her job, and even the one place where she had found sanctuary on many occasions, Darcy Church... denied her when she needed comfort the most.

It was time to do what _SHE_ wanted. What her heart so longed for. Whether it be deemed wrong by society, or even God - if one even existed.

In her eyes - where there is love, there is no sin. The sin of love does not exist.

Slowly closing her eyes, and inhaling deeply, Harley cherished her own advice. But... did _HE_ love her?

Her eyes shot open, and the anxiety returned. The anger and sadness of the unknown ripped at her gut. _'Let's get this over with'_. she thought to herself.

"AH, Doctor!" A middle-aged man in black slacks, and button-up shirt that read, **'GCPD'** in white bold lettering stitched to the upper right side of his chest - beckoned for Harley to follow him behind the reception counter.

As she began to stride his way, Mrs. Lagadale bellowed with awe, "It was an absolute pleasure, Miss Quinzel!"

A few desks over, Harley sat before one of them as the officer took his seat on the opposite end. His gold police badge was slightly rustic looking - as if the station hasn't provided their force with new uniforms in ages. Kind of like Arkham Asylum.

"Officer Smith, and how can I help you, Doctor?" He smiled, his black hair combed back, his dark eyes hazy, and his thin physique hunched over in his chair.

"Well," Harley shied, as she combed her full golden locks behind her ear - hoping she accomplished looking slightly flirtatious, "Some minor details are coming back to me, ya know... from that night. I wanted to add more to my police report."

"Oh! Absolutely, Miss Quinzel! And from the looks of it, you're recovering well. Quite amazing!" Officer Smith winked slyly at her as he leaned down to retrieve a file from his desk drawer.

 _'Great, at least my act is working'._ she thought to herself.

Officer Smith placed a lined piece of paper with the heading, **'Incident Report'** along the top of it in front of Harley - and a pen to follow.

"Take your time."

Harley smiled and took the pen as she scribbled mostly rubbish. This was only a distraction. Doing this was so that she had a reason to be in the Police station.

After a seemingly short ten minutes, Harley handed the report over, and stood up. "Done, and thank you, Officer. But before I head out into that dreadful traffic - mind if I use the ladies room?"

"But of course! Just down this walkway here. Turn left, and your second right is the ladies room. And thank you, Miss Quinzel. I'm sure it's dreadful to keep reliving that night by the constant pestering of a need-to-know basis when it comes to the law. I think that it's mostly the fear-stricken public. Hearing of the Joker breaking out of Arkham for what seems like the hundredth time - gives off the impression that he is un-containable. A force of nature not to be reckoned with. Even for the Batman."

Harley snickered, at least this guy was polite. "He really is untouchable, ain't he." Harley expressed; twirling the pen through her fingers; deep in thought for a split second. "Thank you, Officer. I really appreciate it."

Handing the pen back and making her way in the direction Officer Smith had pointed to, Harley soon ended up in the back halls of the police labyrinth, where little commotion or human traffic existed. Stopping to look at the directional sign, she scanned her finger through the locations, only to abruptly stop on **'Evidence Room.'**

Harley squeaked with excitement, as the room was just around the corner.

Quickly, but quietly, Harley peered around the corner to spot any cameras. With only one camera in sight, she could easily run past it when it veered in the opposite direction. Scanning more of the hallway, she clearly spotted the brown door, and labeled on a small strip of plexiglass: **'GCPD Evidence Room'**. Thankfully, it stuck out like a sore thumb; surely it was locked. But raising her eyes just above the wooden door, was a ventilation window with its flap wide open.

The so-called false memories of basically being an Olympic gold medalist in gymnastics, came to her. She could easily get up there, and slide through the narrow opening.

Clapping her hands and feverishly rubbing them together in anticipation, Harley readied her body - waiting for the slow-moving camera to look the other way.

 _'NOW!'_ a voice cried out from within her already over-worked head.

With such elegant grace, Harley darted towards the door. With a burst of thigh strength, she jumped up towards the open filtration window, using the door handle as leverage for her foot to hoist her small frame up to grab the top of the cramped opening over the evidence entryway.

Harley's arms cried in protest, as she still had not trained her body in such a skill. Her biceps burned as she momentarily struggled to pull herself up; sliding her legs through first. Guiding her torso through next, her back scraped against the sharp seal of the slender window that she was attempting to squeeze through.

Harley winced in pain, but proceeded to slide through the opening. Successfully pushed through, and into the room, she aimed to land on her feet. Instead, the sharp pain in her back threw her off of concentration - she kicked, lost her balance - and clumsily fell butt first upon a stack of cardboard boxes.

Landing with her feet in the air, and in a sitting position - Harley was crammed in the dirty box which sat on top of two others.

Pouting, she struggled to free herself. With no avail, she huffed a hot puff of air that sent the straggling hairs in front of her face to blow back up and into place. "Really?" She chuckled, whilst rolling her eyes.

Suddenly, the stack of boxes couldn't withstand her weight anymore. Giving into the pressure, the cardboard boxes started to tip over.

"No, no, no, no, no!"

But before Harley could react, a loud **'THUD'** left her on her face in a pile of zip-lock bags, sharpies, and zip ties.

She briskly stood up, and listened carefully to see if her clumsiness had given her away... but the faint sound of computer typing and far-off voices hadn't changed their rhythm.

Satisfied, Harley began to examine the endless rows of more cardboard boxes. Squinting to clearly see in the dark, Harley realized that her glasses had fallen off. A moment of panic spread over her face as she started to search the floor where she fell. Nothing.

"Shit. They must have fallin off when I made the jump."

Not worrying about her lenses at the moment, she just wanted to get what she had come here for in the first place. Scanning the shelves that housed the evidence boxes, it was in alphabetic order.

 **'A'**.

She continued to walk further down the the **'A'** row.

 **'AR'**.

"Ah ha! Arkham Asylum."

It wasn't hard to find, considering the crime had only just happened days ago. And there it was - her prize.

Harley's face turned from neural, to admiration. She slowly picked up the wooden bat that Joker had used to beat Doctor Channing to a pulp. Already cleaned from blood and pieces of flesh, Harley brought the object to her chest and hugged it tightly.

 _'I will decorate it!'_ She thought to herself, thinking back to the art paints and markers stowed away within her closet back home.

Bringing the bat out before her to inspect it again, she then wondered how she would get it out of the Police Station... she didn't think about that. ' _Oops_ '.

Looking around the room, Harley spotted one bared window. Rushing over to it, she reached in between the bars, unlatched the glass lock, and tossed the bat outside where it comfortably landed in some bushes - safely hidden.

A shriek of excitement erupted from her lungs as she clapped her hands of her performance. Trotting back to where she had come from - she decided that she would just go through the door properly, and lock it from behind. Apparently the Gotham City Police were old fashioned, because it was just a simple house door lock. _'Nothing too fancy smancy!'_ Harley thought.

Harley peered through the foggy slit of plexiglass; spotting the camera above. Assuming the coast was clear, and the camera turned the other way - Harley swung open the door, and then barreled head first into the receptionist, Mrs. Lagadale.

"Oh! Dear! You startled me! What in the world?" Mrs. Lanadale's words then trailed off as she just realized who she had bumped into, and from what door Harley had just come through.

The old woman cocked her head to the side, "My dear, what are you doing in there? How did you get in there?"

Harley bit her lip and looked down at the floor - only to catch a glimpse of her glasses on the floor. "Oh! There they are!" she sputtered. "I am completely blind without these things! Can ya believe it?! And here I am tryin to find the bathroom and I stumble in-" Harley put her lenses on and looked up at the door she had just come through and dramatically gasped. "The evidence room! How on earth? I am so embarrassed!"

"Oh, you poor thing!" Mrs. Lagadale responded, "Let's get you to the proper area you need to be. I am so sorry - someone should have escorted you back here!"

"Thank you _so_ much, you are a life saver!"

Harley did it. And she would go collect her prize outside, and head straight home. She needed to change into something a little more presentable if she were to go to the Jester Kane to find her Puddin.

But for now - she would silently relish in her little triumph.

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY**

It was now completely dark as the sun had fully disappeared. The full moon claimed the velvet night sky - which gave the streets an eerie white glow.

Parking her car, and heading back to her home - Harley couldn't help but to feel as if she were being watched. It was so quiet. So still. So stationary that Harley thought she could hear the buzzing of the familiar electricity power through her bloodstream.

Squinting her eyes, Harley looked around her neighborhood, and then up to her apartment window on the tenth floor. Everything motionless, except for the light breeze that chilled her back. Harley tensed as she was sure that her earlier stunt had left a mark - possibly a bruise.

Shrugging it off - she continued to her apartment door.

Unlocking it and stepping inside, she clicked on the lamp that sat beside the entrance - giving the room a faint and stagnant yellow tinge. She held the wooden bat to her face, running her finger down the side of it, almost stroking it as if it were to come alive.

Suddenly, a slight creaking noise interrupted her focus, and Harley lifted the bat over her shoulder, ready to swing. "Who's there?! I don't have all night, ya know! I've got plans for tonight!"

Slowly, but surely - a masculine figure came into focus from her bedroom. The low rumble in his chest sent Harley to instantly lower her weapon in surrender. The vibrant green hair bit through the darkness, and the pale white skin of his face and chest illuminated as if he were a God.

 _'He does exist.'_ Harley thought to herself.

Joker's eyes plunged deep into Harley's wide blue ones. His jaw unhinged, and his pupils were so far dilated that they were almost black. The force of his complete attention sent chills through Harley, but she stood completely still. This was her first time seeing him in all of his demented glory without being confined within the Asylum. His Black and gold striped slacks fit snug, as his shirt clung to him in a way Harley never thought she could imagine.

Joker slowly began to circle her, as his men emerged from every corner of Harley's already modest apartment. His movements were controlled, but there was a rigid within his step. Harley didn't know if he were angry, or confused. Or both.

Joker silently stepped closer to Harley, only to sweep some of her hair off of her neck; his touch was surprisingly gentle. He then stopped in front of her; bending slightly to her eye level.

Still without a word, Joker's black eyes raked greedily over Harley, his grill bared - as if admiring his full creation.

Her body hummed in response. She was at his mercy, and so she closed her eyes to enjoy the presence of this magnificent man. Her gut screamed in danger, but she felt that if Joker wanted her dead - why would he come all the way out here just to wait for her in her own home? Maybe he wanted to kill her himself. Finish the job. The job the electroshock failed to do.

Joker cocked his head ever so slightly, baffled by Harley's reaction. Her eyes closed for a few seconds, and then opened - as if she were completely at ease.

This angered him, and he didn't know why. Maybe he was hoping to kill her. Hoping to see the unmistakable terror spread across her pretty little face so that he could finally get rid of this distracting creature.

Joker's breaths became uneven as he suddenly gripped Harley by her jaw; causing her glasses to fall from her face and to the floor. Joker squeezed tightly, and made sure not to give her any slack. Harley subtly winced at his rough gesture, but kept her eyes on his.

 _'She was standing her ground'_. Joker thought to himself. This brought a wide silver grin to his face - the menacing sight would've spooked anyone, but Harley just continued to glare.

"Ha - ha - _HA_!" Joker erupted with a devious laugh that finally broke the suffocating tension. Joker raised his index finger to her face, his diamond 'J' pinky ring flashed in the moonlight. " _You_ , little girl... are in big... _big_... _trouble._ " The rumble in the back of Joker's throat could've been mistaken for a purr.

But his response just made Harley immensely inflamed! After everything she had _done_ for him! After everything he did to _her_! And he has the nerve to say that _SHE_ is the one in trouble?!

" _What_?!" Harley shrieked, "Mistah J! No _'thank you'_ for gettin ya out of Arkham or what?!"

Joker released Harley's face and looked undoubtedly confused this time. He was very observant, but her new-found accent wasn't hard to miss - and that threw him off guard.

Harley instantly picked up on his puzzlement and giggled, "Yeah, thanks to you, Mistah J - I now have what it seems to be a Brooklyn accent! Ya like?"

Joker's eyes then fell to the wooden bat that hung in Harley's hand beside her hip. Looking back up abruptly without moving his head but just his ink-like eyes, Joker must've looked more predatory and hostile than before, as Harley then started to back up. Using his body, Joker bullied her back against the wall with a hard **THUD**. Harley cried in pain as she arched her back away from the  
wall.

Joker's jaw protruded as he roughly grabbed a hold of Harley's shoulder, spun her around, and pinned her face-first into the hallow barrier. With his hand encased around the back of her slender neck to keep Harley from struggling, Joker lifted the back of her shirt up - only to reveal a black and blue bruise that lined all the way down her back - even mildly dripping with blood from the small scrapes spontaneously placed around her spine.

Releasing his grip, Joker was then plagued by a burning and tightening sensation. He couldn't place the feeling - so he resorted to rage. Harley spun back around to face Joker, as his black eyes now looked wild. " _What_... did you do? _Who_ did this to you?" His voice seeped of authority and curved around each syllable as he spoke.

When Harley didn't answer him, Joker balled up his fist, brought his arm back, and punched the wall beside her head with such force - that his hand went through the Sheetrock as if it were hot butter.

This time, Harley jumped - as she was trying to make sense of his actions. Was he concerned, but didn't fully know how to show it?

Joker snarled - he was completely out of his element, and he didn't like it. And then he realized it. He was reacting to feelings that he had absolutely no experience with - desire, attraction... vulnerability. Is this what those alien feelings were that he couldn't explain?

 _'She had to die'_. Joker argued with himself, as he upholstered his pistol and implanted the barrel against Harley's temple.

"Woah! Hey, hey!" Harley bickered, "What did I do, Mistah J? Really?"

Joker cracked a smile and moved even closer into Harley's warm presence. Her body reacted, complying with his - as she pushed herself even deeper into him.

"Come on, Mistah J." Harleen whispered, "I've done every test; every game of yours. Just accept me."

"Mmmmmm." Joker purred as he used his pistol hand to slick back his hair. "Cupcake. I don't think this will work. Ya, see... I thought you were dead. Joke's on me, I guess!"

"And here you are!" Harley argued.

Joker raised his hands and twirled them in display as he spoke, "I am not someone who could be... lo- _ved_."

 _'I don't need her'._ Joker thought. But he couldn't seem to kill her.

" _Soooo_ \- why don't you forget all about me, Harley-girl." Joker caressed his cold pistol against Harley's lips; noticing the tears swell up in her eyes. He slowly lowered his pistol to her chest and his eyes followed. The green sequence shirt that she wore, accented her curves nicely. Joker suddenly craved to feel her unexplored flesh as he continued to use the head of his pistol to pull Harley's shirt down even further.

Harley went to reach for Joker's face, but he reeled in his lust, and pulled away before this bewitching creature could cast her spell on him again.

Instantly regretting his actions, Joker erupted in a silent battle within his head - whether to take Harley with him or not. She was almost like a drug to him - she couldn't seem to stop penetrating his thoughts. Maybe _IF_ she were around, he would grow tired of her. And then is life could go back to the way it was before.

Just as Joker was about to reach out for her, the sound of gunfire outside interrupted the night.

Joker bared his metal teeth, and bellowed a deep rooted snarl as he instinctively raised his pistol. Suddenly, the sliding glass windows of the apartment burst into thousands of shards of glass. A man of towering size, armored by a thick black suit, and a leather-like cape - rolled into the now trashed apartment.

The Batman.

At the same time, the front door burst open, flying off of it's hinges yet again, knocking over the only lamp that emanated any real light.

Harley let out a startled scream as she ducked just in time to avoid the rogue splintered wood frame that came hurling her way.

A sleek, yet toned man in a similar black armored suit emerged from the doorway. But instead, he had no cape, and a sharp patterned line of blue was printed across his chest. His black mask plastered itself around his eyes. His jet-black hair hung thickly around his dark blue eyes.

"Ooohhhh!" Joker belched out in a voice of symphony, "We have company! Light em' up, boys!"

But the Batman was far too quick for some of Joker's men. The sound of cracking bones, gunfire, and cries of agony rang Harley's ear drums as she desperately searched for Joker.

Joker smiled indulgently, as the Batman went straight past the remaining of Joker's men to get to him.

"OOHHH HAHAHAHA!" Joker emanated with life, as the Batman was too slow for Joker's fluid movements. Popping off three rounds from his pistol into the Batman's shielded chest, Joker rapidly ducked under the Batman's thick bicep arms and avoided his grip - only for Joker to jump up with both fists balled up, and come down hard on the Batman's back.

The force pushed the Bat to his knees, but was up in a matter of seconds with no repercussion.

Joker glared as he dodged every attempted hit and swipe that the Bat tried to throw his way.

Harley looked over to where the other masked man was, as he was beating Joker's men, one after another.

Glancing down at her wooden bat, Harley gripped it with two hands, went full speed towards the mystery masked man, and brought it down hard against his back.

The masked man whipped around in Harley's direction looking startled and shocked. He must have been wearing the same bullet-proof armor as the Batman, because he was barely phased. She should have aimed for his head.

"Ow! Why did you do that?!" The masked man scolded, throwing Harley off guard.

"You're the one who broke into my home! What do ya expect me to do?! A happy dance?!"

"But, we're the good guys!"

"How am I supposed to know that?"

"Haven't you heard of me? Nightwing?!"

"Nah." Harley shook her head as she rested her wooden bat on her shoulder. "Never heard of ya."

"Well, didn't that Clown break in as well?"

"Well, yeah - but you started the commotion! The Clown has more manners than you, putz!" Harley spat.

Nightwing look perplexed. "Well," he continued, "This is for your own good."

Nightwing stomped over to Harley, picked her up, and flung her over his shoulder with little effort. She cried in protest as she accidentally dropped her bat. Her kicks and punches did nothing to the man who grabbed her. The armor felt like flexible rubber, but acted like steel. She was hurting herself more than she was Nightwing.

"PUT ME DOWN, YA OOF!"

Harley's voice reeked of such agitation, that it triggered an alarm within Joker. And that's all the Batman needed - was that split second of distraction, as he came barreling into Joker that knocked him backward into the wall - creating a crater of a crack behind him.

Joker quickly regained himself and went to sprint towards Harley.

Nightwing carried Harley to the bathroom, dodging the attacks that Joker's men attempted on the way. He then tossed her inside of the small room, closing the door behind him, and wedging a chair beneath the door handle - trapping Harley inside.

Harley stumbled up screaming and banged on the door. It wouldn't budge.

"It's for your own good, Harleen!" Nightwing yelled through the door.

Harley paused for a minute. This son of a bitch knew her name! ' _But of course he would'_. Harley thought. She was the Joker's Doctor who lived. _'I bet they were watching my apartment'._

The thought angered her, and she proceeded to bang against the door with both hands screaming with profanity and insults.

Nightwing turned around to join back in the fight, only to find a fist full of white - make blunt contact with his face. The force sent him staggering back, as Nightwing glimpsed up to see Joker hovering over him. Joker's fine black shirt had been mostly torn to pieces. Traces of the fabric still lingered to his arms and torso. His green hair fell half way in his face - and his black eyes pierced right through his soul. The baring of Jokers metallic teeth sent a chill to even Nightwing as he quickly composed himself.

"Do _NOT_ touch what isn't yours!" Joker mocked.

Nightwing stood confused, as to not know what in the hell this fucking clown was talking about. Instead, he went in for a comeback punch, only to just slightly miss the Clown's face, but he rolled into him. Both men rolled over the bed, kicking the nightstands in the process - with Nightwing landing on one side - and Joker on the other next to the bedroom window.

Frost appeared next to his Boss, his suit almost as tattered as Joker's. Frost pointed his gun at the bedroom window, and fired off two shots to break the glass. The rest of Joker's men piled around their Boss, shielding him from any other oncoming attack.

The Batman was attempting to fight his way through the thugs in the other room - still trying to get to Joker.

Frost pulled out a harpoon-like gun, and aimed it out of the bedroom window. The gun fired a thick arrow with a rope attached, and made a zip-line for a quick escape. Frost grabbed Joker by the arm, trying to usher him out to safety.

Joker growled with a fierce, "Ahh, _NO_!." As he stretched his arm out towards the bathroom door.

But seeing the Bat coming his way, and with his men slowly fading in numbers - Joker didn't feel like going back to Arkham.

Defeated for the time being, Joker let Frost escort him out of the window.

Nightwing then looked from the bathroom door - and then to Joker - who still kept his dreadful and horrifying gaze locked on Nightwing as he slid away on the zip-line.

And then it dawned on him. "No way." He said to himself.

With the last of Joker's men either knocked out - or in cuffs, Nightwing turned to the Batman.

"You're not going to believe this." Nightwing flustered as he opened the bathroom door to expose Harley sitting in the bathtub with her knees to her chest.

Her face was stained with mascara and tears as she exchanged glances from the burly Batman, and then to the concerned-looking Nightwing.


	17. Chapter 17

**Authors Note:**

 **Well... I'm back! And I'm here to write MORE!**

 **So - just to share... I met our real life Joker! Jared Leto is quite amazing to meet. And when you meet him, it's a little intimidating as he focuses on just YOU. Those blue eyes did not disappoint. He stared straight into my soul lol He is incredibly sweet! And I can't wait to meet him again.**

 **As for my chapter... this is the longest chapter I've done. And I want to warn you... this one is a little bit slow, as I'd like to remind, this is a Harley origin. And how Joker and her create that bond. So I must develop her character the best I can.**

 **Also, my Penguin is none other than the Oswald from the TV series, Gotham!**

 **Please note that there will probably be typos. This chapter was first written on paper, and I just wanted to get this typed out and posted asap. So I'll be fixing my mistakes later.**

 **I** **also suggest re-reading this entire story over to refresh your memory. Because I will make this promise now... I will be posting a chapter at least once a month. More if work permits! Though, I do have some of the next chapter already written. So that will be posted sooner than you think!**

 **Thank you for being loyal followers! And enjoy!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 17**

The sound of the consistant typing and abnoxious generic phone rings woke Harley from her short slumber.

Harley slowly opened her dry eyes, rapidly blinking them to gain focus. Her back ached, and felt like a train hit her... twice. For a split second, she didn't know where she was. It was then when she shook her head and sat straight up, that it all came flooding into her already over-worked brain.

Her apartment. Joker. Batman. Nightwing. Poilce Department.

Police Department.

"Uggghhh." Harley let out a deep and ugly guttoral moan as she cupped her forehead in her palm. The cold metal bench that she briefly fell asleep on, had no mercy on her already bruised and scraped back.

Harley was at the GCPD in a holding cell - where she involuntarily spent the night. Thanks to Gotham's so-called heroes, Batman and Nightwing.

Harley was assured numerous times that she wasn't in any trouble - but simply needed to get the story set. Legally, the GCPD could hold her for up to twenty-four hours before they must charge her with a crime. At this point, being caught in the presence of Joker - she was a talked about suspect. So she could have the possibilty of being held for thirty-six hours.

Fantastic.

Harley already had a story to back her up. Joker broke in and caught her by surprise. End of story. It wasn't the first time that Joker went after his past Doctors when he was admitted to Arkham and broke free. The only problem... he would kill them. Hense why no other soul would dare to take on Joker's case. They would have to be brave indeed.

And here she is. Alive and... cranky. And that right there was the flaw in her claims. Doctor Harleen Quinzel lived to tell the story. And Joker didn't like his stories told. No matter how brief they were.

But... she wasn't fully lying anyway. That was the god honest truth! She just wouldn't mention the bond that she's developed for this dangerous man. But other than that - the truth. Easy peasy!

The three holding cells resided to the right side within the GCPD building - right next to all of the spontanious placed desks - where dozens of officers and receptionists continued to tirelessly work on the safty of Gotham City.

Harley stood up, and pressed her flushed face between the bars of her imprisionment.

"Heyyyyy!" She extended her arm out, trying to get ones attention. "Hey, you! Yeah, you! What's it gonna take for an innocent girl here ta getta shower? And did I mention..." Harley then squinted her eyes closed in agitation, and screeched as loud as she could, "I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG!"

That caught more than ones attention, as Harley's voice echoed over the already noisey department. A few startled heads turned her way to see where the commotion came from. Including a taller and concerned looking man.

As this more prominent gentleman made his way towards Harley, she began to notice his simple, yet fluid movements that separated him from any other trained officer in the building.

She began to observe.

Definitely a cop. The sandy-colored hair mixed with a tinge of gray confirmed his experience. The way the staff acknowledged him with either a half salute or a head nod as he walked by - secured his rank. His thick mustache curled into a subtle smile, and his weary hazel eyes hid behind black wire-framed glasses. And man, oh, man - did those eyes have stories to tell. Dedication, warmth... secrets. Seemed like everyone in Gotham had some form of secret though. So nothing unexpected.

This man's voice seeped of authority - but nothing like Joker's. Joker's was controlled, sure of whatever came into context. But the man that stood before Harley, his instead was firm, yet unsure of the outcome.

"My name is Gordon." He kindly expressed. "And Miss Quinzel, we're going as fast as we can to get this resolved. Your safety is our primary concern."

"Ah." Harley playfully smirked. "The infamous Commissioner Gordon! It's certainly a pleasure to meetcha!"

For a split second, Gordon looked baffled, but quickly composed himself. This did not seem like the same Doctor Harleen Quinzel that was treating the Joker. She was a bit... too comfortable with the situation? Or maybe Doctor Quinzel just lives up to her newfound reputation - of being a strong and confident woman. Maybe that is why she's lived through the recent nightmares that have been cursed upon her.

"As you may know - the situation at Arkham is very serious. Many escaped through the practically destroyed historic building." Gordon continued as he pulled out a thick memo pad from his dark brown blazer pocket, as he read from it. "One known as Bradbury. George Harkness - also known as, Captain Boomerang. Christopher Weiss - also known as, Slipknot."

Harley pursed her lips and a faint lisp came from her lips. Gordon noticed this, stopped, and waited for her to respond - as that's what she was itching to do.

"Oh, Mistah Gordon - those inmates are practically harmless compared to most that are treated there. The last two weren't even supposed ta be there. Instead, they were just bein' seen by the Psychiatric hospital in the ward that we provide in Arkham. Since no one in the public medical field would accept any kinda criminal through their doors."

Gordon eyed Harley over - she was almost making excuses for these criminals. Gordon has mingled with some of the Doctors in Arkham in the past, and they were very passionate about their patients... could this possibly be the case with Doctor Quinzel? That she was just passionate? Gordon was having a hard time reading this woman, and his suspicions grew. But curiosity overplayed his anticipation, and decided to just go along with what Harley was saying. Hoping to coax something out of her that he could work with.

"I see, Doctor. That compared to even the Joker - that these inmates are not as intimidating or destructive as him. But... still pose a threat to my city." Gordon cleared his throat as he glanced at his memo pad once more. "Jonathan Crane." His voice stearner now. "Also known as, Scarecrow."

This name sent a spark through Harley. "Yes. I know Jonathan." Her demeanor finally relaxing. "I've had a few sessions with him in the past. He's a very brilliant man."

Harley's thoughts then driffted to one of the occasional encounters that she had shared with Jonathan Crane.

 _The Arkham cafeteria was as bland as the processed food that they served. The sterile light was enough to blend the blanch floors to the_ _walls - and the walls to the celing. Rows of elongated beige tables with connecting benches stretched across the way._

 _Doctor Harleen Quinzel casually walked in, passing through the numerous guards posted in every enterance to the room. Employees weren't_ _permitted to eat lunch with the inmates. Instead, there was a seperate employee lunch room. But Harleen was always the odd ball out of the_ _entire staff - she liked getting to know her patients when not in a therapy room. A simple lunch was better patient and Doctor bonding than_ _any therapy room where you were required to ask mostly bleak medical questions. And she had grown quite fond of Jonathan Crane's conversations._ _He wasn't even one of Harleen's main patients, but she would mostly fill in for Doctors that would come and go with treating Jonathan Crane. She almost felt bad for him at times, as most Doctors would simply deem Jonathan as insane with no possible recovery. Therefore, Doctor after Doctor would come and go with Jonathan's so-called treatments. He_ _was still one of Harleen's favorites though - and sometimes made her work bearable on some days._

 _Harleen looked around the room, her white lab coat hung loosey over her black pencil skirt, and maroon button-up shirt. Hair tied back,_ _she pushed her glasses upon the bridge of her nose as she scanned the room of the the mumbling patients._

 _There sat Jonathan Crane. At the farthest corner of the room, and as distant from any human lifeform as possible - Jonathan sat before his tray of_ _uneaten slop with his eyes glued to the out-of-date television that hung above him._

 _As Harleen's black heels clicked beneath her, always giving away of her arrival - she approached Jonathan from behind; carrying her own_ _tray of fresh pasta and salad. So without a glance, Jonathan expressed his enthusiasm as much as he were capable of. "Oh. Harleen._ _Always such a pleasure to be in your presence."_

 _His voice was cool, flat, and lacked any pitch other than a stable monotone that would put anyone to sleep if he were to talk long_ _enough._

 _But Harleen found his conversation entertaining. And even though Jonathan wouldn't express it directly, she knew that he_ _enjoyed hers as well._

 _A slender man, with calm green eyes that off-set his thick deep-brown hair that spontaneously laid in his face - was definitely not_ _a physical manifestation that would scream murderer._

 _Harleen let a light laugh slip as she circled around to the other side of the table, and sat her tray down in front of Jonathan._

 _"Your rapture is so boggling. I'm honored!" Harleen purposely over exaggerated._

 _Jonathan slowly inhaled as he gently pulled down the sleeves of his dark blue Arkham sweater. "You're blocking my view, woman."_

 _"Oops! Sorry!" As Harleen plopped more than necessary onto the stiff bench, she pushed her tray towards Jonathan. A once in a while_ _r_ _itual of theirs, as she knew that the patient food was absolutely terrible._

 _Jonathan picked at the salad with his plastic spork. "And I would greatly welcome the Rapture palooza - because then that means,_ _I would be free to roam Hell on Earth."_

 _"You are just full of charm, Jonathan. I always enjoy it." Harleen smiled._

 _Jonathan raised his eyebrow. "Do you always draw white lies to set the mood, Harleen?"_

 _Harleen held her head high, as if his words were a praise. "The truly intelligent person is one who can pretend to be a fool,_ _in front of a fool, who pretends to be intelligent."_

 _Jonathan finally locked eyes with Harleen, and a frail smile graced his face. "This is why I like you, Harleen. You should go_ _into Politics. You'd fit right in."_

 _Harleen chuckled as Jonathan continued, "People wonder whether the glass is half empty or half full are missing the point. The glass_ _is REFILLABLE. And you, Harleen - I know likes a refill."_

 _"Yup." Harleen chirped. "With a nice glass of a fine red wine."_

 _Jonathan scrunched his nose. "Try some fine aged Brandy. Oh, how I miss the smooth taste of that stimulating liquid as I chose_ _my next subject to bestow my toxin. So many fearful subjects I had to cure."_

 _"Such beautiful inspiration. You should really see a shrink." Harleen joked._

 _Jonathan looked over at her with judging eyes._

 _"But hey!" Harley continued as she reached into her lab coat to pull out a worn-looking book who has seen better days. "I may not have_ _Brandy, but I did find that novel that you asked for. Had to dig deep in my storage."_

 _Jonathan took the book graciously and flipped through the pages, clearly satisfied._

 _"Anyway," Harleen exclaimed as she stood up, "I must be going. Doctor Flimmel has a new patient for me today. Apparently it's a_ _special case - as he expressed that he wasn't inclined to even give me a name yet."_

 _"You should be my primary Doctor, Harleen." Jonathan mumbled with his nose still baried within his new book. "Then I wouldn't be_ _slowly dying of boredom. The lack of intellect within these walls are depressing."_

 _"I'll work towards it." Harleen then gave a genuine smile, patted Jonathan on the shoulder, and proceeded to her office._

"Miss Quinzel?"

Harley shook her head as Gordon's voice broke through her haze of memories.

"So please, Doctor. I know you've already provided your statement, but can you tell me exactly what happened last night? I'd like to hear it, if you don't mind."

Harley knew that if she wanted to get out of here, she needed to play her Doctor part.

Deeply inhaling, Harley put on her professional mask. "As I had told ya, Mistah Gordon. Joker and his goons broke inta my apartment. We exchanged a few words - of course, as I was trying to textbook my way to safety. And that's when Batman and his pansy sidekick trashed my place! I had it calmly under control until our vigilante showed up."

Gordon pierced his lips, and wondered if this woman had a death wish, or she was just overly confident. "No one ever has the Joker under control. What did he say to you?"

Harley pushed her lips to the side as her mind quickly brewed up a fabrication. "Only that he wanted to talk. I assume he was just lonely." UGH! Harley mentally bashed herself for that lame excuse. Was that really the best that she could come up with? He was lonely? Ha!

"Any idea of his whereabouts now?" Gordon pushed.

"Nope. Batman surely made certain to ruin that chance."

"Any indication you might think that the Joker would try to contact you again?"

"Not ah chance."

"Why do you think that?"

"Blame Batman. Who would want to come back after some guy tried to feed ya a mouthful of steel rubber?"

"So why didn't the Joker kill you? That's a little out of his element. Don't you think, Doctor?"

'He's prying. Testing me.' Harley thought.

"Sir. I've been his Doctor for months. That is the most anyone could ever say about Joker. And I can give my honest and professional opinion... He is not coming back after last nights incident. This was a spontaneous visit from a deranged man." Harley's own words stung as she lied. "And after what he did to me in Arkham, I'd rather not experience another visit."

Gordon eyed Harley through the dull chrome jail bars, "After everything he did inflict upon you, Doctor... I wouldn't want to see that man after such torture either. He is definitely not looking out for your well being. I also wouldn't want to go looking for him either. That is... to try to 'talk' to an apparently lonely individual as you observed. From a Doctor's point of view towards her patient, that is."

Harley's body went slightly ridged. And the fire in her eyes dulled to nothing more than smoke now.

Her jaw protruded. 'He suspected something.' Harley's thoughts spun around.

Gordon had no evidence. It was her word against his. Absolutely no one knew exactly what happened that night. No one but her, Joker, and his loyal army.

"In that case, Miss Quinzel." Gordon then opened the cell door to her freedom. "You're lucky to have good friends in high places. Especially those whom I respect dearly. And Doctor..."

Harley stopped and turned to face Gordon.

"Please be careful. This pattern is not the usual for the Joker. He comes back to finish the job." Concern washed over his face. "You're a good Doctor. A good person. One of the few left in Gotham. And I'd hate to see you make the wrong choices."

And just like that, Gordon had disappeared in the messy chaos within the station.

Harley just stood there, absorbing Gordon's words. They had caught her off guard. His words spoke to her in a way that she was not used to. Someone who apparently treated her with respect, was apart of the law and order, and didn't once insult or antagonize her. Though Harley felt that Gordon didn't fully trust her - she could feel his genuine concern for her. It was refreshing.

'But stupid on his bahalf' She thought.

Suddenly, Harley's trance was broken with a familiar voice. "Harleen! Oh, thank goodness you're okay!"

Dick materialized from the crowded work stations.

"Was it you?" Harley huffed. "Did you get me out?"

"Well... yes, of course! You didn't do anything wrong!" Dick exclaimed. "Uh... did you?"

Harley - without thinking, launched herself at Dick to embrace him in a full hug.

And yet another man that was good to her. Harley thought the world must be burning over - because this was definitely the Twilight Zone.

"Oh! Thank you, Mistah Grayson! I owe ya one!" Even though Harley did not particularly like the fact about owing anyone, but she was desperate to escape the foul stench of the GCPD.

Dick chuckled, "That you do!"

Harley instantly retorted from her embrace. "Whoops! Sorry! It's been over twenty-four hours since I've hadda shower!"

"Yeah..." Dick cringed his nose, "I wasn't going to say anything."

Harley playfully smacked his arm. "Ya better not, ya ooff!"

"Let's get you home."

Dick gave Harley a ride home. His car was even more luxurious and exotic than the one Bruce Wayne had shown her at the Gala party that one night. But of course it was - rich men and their drivable machinery. Even Joker was known to have an especially noticable purple Lamborghini that wrecked havoc on the streets. Harley rolled her eyes to herself  
as she sat on the white plush seats of the confining sports car. But now, her new soul began to appreciate the power  
behind these glamorous vehicles. The damage you could do, the speeds you were capable of - it was exhilarating just thinking about the thrill.

The ride with Dick was somewhat annoying to Harley though. He mostly asked the same questions as Gordon, and she gave the same answers. But she owed him at least that much for rescuing her from a possibly even longer interrogation at the GCPD.

"So..." Dick continued as he drove. "What's Batman like? I've never crossed paths with our vigilante hero."

"He's clumsy. Trashed my whole apartment!" Harley threw her arms up in exaggeration. "I mean, was his destructive entrance that necessary? I mean, really! I don't even know how I'm gonna fix everything. Do ya know if Batman has insurance?"

"Yeah, I heard of the ruin of your residence on the news. But I'm here taking you to pack a few bags from your place so  
we can take you to a safe house. I've got a crew to fix your apartment. Until then, and the authorities deem you safe,  
you will be some place secure. Now... what was Nightwing like?"

"Wait!" Harley shot. "What do ya mean I'm goin to a safe house? And you paid for my place to be fixed?"

"Yeah." Dick said, almost dismissive. "Now, about Nightwing..."

"Thank you, Mistah Grayson! Now I definitely owe ya!"

"I'll remember that." Dick winked.

Harley snorted. "An Nightwing is a tard."

Dick slightly swerved the car, but quickly corrected himself. "Well that is an interesting choice of words. Why? What did he do?"

"He forced me into a bathroom after I hit him with a bat?"

"Why did you do that?!"

"He helped Batman trash my place! And who knows? If those damn Waffle-Heads didn't barge in, I coulda gotten some useful info outta Mistah J."

Dick laughed as he imitated Harley's accent, "Mistah J?"

Harley's eyes flashed as she quickly corrected her mistake. "That's what I called him in the Asylum. I've just gotten used to it."

"Regardless, Harleen. You shouldn't be hitting masked heroes with bats." Dick chuckled. "They're the good guys, you know."

Harley's instincts sharpened as she glanced at Dick. His last sentence stirred Dejavu, but she couldn't quite place it.

"Getting visits from Crime Lords, hitting vigilantes with bats... what am I going to do with you?" Dick mused.

Harley chimed in with Dicks amusement.

"Really though," He continued. "Nightwing didn't deserve that. I only assume he was trying to protect you."

"Perhaps."

"I heard he's a handsome fellow. What do you think?"

"Are ya gay or somethin? Because I wouldn't mind havin a shopping partner."

"What?! No. Nooo... Just trying to make conversation. Don't women like to talk about handsome and mysterious men  
in masks and stuff?"

"You're some Nightwing fan, ya?"

Dick whispered, "Maybe."

Harley chuckled like a hyena, "Well, Mistah Grayson! I didn't see that coming!"

"Don't judge me." Dick pouted his lips.

Harley really did enjoy Dick's company at times. But there was still something about him that prodded at her trust.

Harley rounded up a few suitcases so she may gather what she needed at her apartment. With Dick's help, they were  
fairly quick about it - as even he seemed to be uncomfortable being in the area. But Harley couldn't help but to pause  
every few minutes to take in her now trashed sanctuary that she had worked so hard for.

Police tape plastered in every square foot, blankets of shards of glass glistened just as brightly as the city lights outside,  
pieces of furniture that even Harley couldn't tell what it used to be...

With a deep but short huff of the chilly air that came through the broken and taped up windows - Harley grabbed her needed belongings, and headed out the door.

Their destination to this 'safe house' was actually quite the drive. It was just outside of Gotham, in the middle of nowhere. Harley might have spotted a gas station that looked as if the rusted pumps were from the 1960's. A run-down diner that would be the classic location for a horror movie. And a small market with a ghostly-looking antique rocking chair sitting on the front portch of the place - as if 'Billy-Bob' would suddenly materialize in it - creepily rocking back and forth with a shotgun in hand.

'What kind of torture was this?!' Harley thought. She was even more willing for another electroshock session with Joker over this. Self-inflicted for more entertainment! Harley would go nuts here.

The place she were to stay at was incredible though.

A fully black-gated, four bedroom, and three bathroom luscious house. It was practically a mansion in her eyes.

Anyone would need a punch-code to enter the eight-foot tall spiked gate that surrounded the two acre property. And even after that, there were two security box offices on each side of the property - occupied by an officer in each one.

'This is absolutely ridiculous.' Harley thought to herself. Though this would be considered a vacation to some, Harley frowned through the dark tinted windows as Dick parked the car. Harley was a city girl at heart. Hopefully this wouldn't be a long stay.

Harley still wanted to find Joker. She still didn't want to believe that she was abandoned. And eventually, she wanted to  
be by his side. Harley had already made up her mind - and she was not going to go back on it. She was done being the good girl. She wanted more excitement. She wanted to break the rules. The same rules that were supposed to keep her safe. To not have robbed of her child-hood. To not have been sexually harassed and pushed around throughout her life. She wanted Gotham at her knees. She wanted... _him_. And apart of her knew that he wanted her.

But for now, she would suck it up. A moment of patience in a moment of anger - saves a thousand moments of regret. Harley needed to throw the authorities off guard for now. Especially the Bat and his Chickenwing. Because Harley couldn't properly look for the Clown Prince of Gotham with the GCPD and a couple of vigilantes breathing down her back.

And then... it dawned on her. Harley could probably make good use of this time.

"Hey, Mistah Grayson." Harley beamed.

As Dick came in through the front door of the house with Harley's bags, he acknowledged her with a head nod.

"Am I a prisoner here or what?"

"You may come and go as you please." Dick responded - but the tone of his voice hinted that there was definitely a catch. "That is... with the permission to do so. Oh, and a chaperone if you do." Dick flashed Harley a toothy smile as she rolled her eyes.

She thought as much.

"So..." Harley insisted, "Can I have someone here to teach me self-defense? I'm also wanting some lessons in gymnastics. Could kill some time ya know. Especially since I am in fact, prisoner here."

"Actually..." Dick mused as he rubbed his chin in thought, "That is a brilliant idea. I know of a certain self-defense art that mixes with gymnastics. I'll make some calls."

"Are you like... my protector now or what?" Harley poked. "Shouldn't the police be going though this routine with me?"

Dick laughed, "Only a handful of authorites know of your location. And since I'm a trusted comrade," Dick expressed as he stretched his arms out as if he were acknowledging his divine existence, "I took the honor to escort you to your castle, m'lady."

Harley inhaled a warm puff of air as her voice lowered to a more serious and sincere tone. "Why are you doing so much for me, Mistah Grayson? I haven't done nothin for ya to deserve such hospitality." Her voice drowned in doubt.

'He's a good guy.' Harley thought, 'But I still barely know him.'

'You barley know Mistah J.' It was as if her subconscious manifested another voice in her head. And she instinctively responded in a faint whisper, "Oh, shut up."

"What?" Dick asked confused.

"No. Not you. Just a lot on my mind."

Dick eyed Harley warily. "I do all of this because I like you, Harleen. Since the first day I ran into you and spilled your latte because you wern't watching where you were going."

Both of them chuckled.

"I was deep in thought!" Harley playfully retorted as she whacked Dick on his shoulder. But she soon realized that Dick legitimately liked her. Maybe a little too much for comfort on her behalf.

As the light laughter slowly faded from the both of them, Dick pursed his lips as he continued, "You're a good person. I knew it from the start. And I just don't want to see you hurt. And with the clown loose, he seems to have taken a weird and unpredictable interest in you. That's no secret."

And for once, Dick had dropped all sarcastic jokes aside in that short moment. And a vulnerability that Harley had never seen in Dick's demeanor sprouted before her. And in that moment - Harley got to know just a little bit more about this mystery man.

Harley lowered her head in a sulking manner. If she had a dollar every time someone has mentioned to her being a good person today...

"What if I'm not the good person that everyone perceives me to be?"

Dick looked baffled. "What do you mean, Harleen? Is there something you want to tell me?"

'DON'T DO IT!' Harley's defenses screamed within her.

'Do it. Then it'll give you a reason to kill him. He'd be a good one to pop your cherry.' Harley silently hummed in delight, and for a split second she wondered if she was capable of taking a life.

'Wait! No!' She mentally told the other voice. 'Not Mistah Grayson! I kinda like em.'

Dick waited for Harley to answer - only to notice her deep in tought, which worried him a little.

"You can tell me anything, Harleen."

"HA! Nothing. Just doubting my good deeds."

Harley then forced a cough.

"And ya know what? I'm not feeling too well. Long day. Barely slept. I think I'll rest now. And thank you, Mistah Grayson. For everything. I truly mean it. I don't know how I'll ever repay your kindness - but I will."

Dick smiled, "I'll be in touch. And let's get you started with those self-defense classes! Would certainly make me feel better knowing that you can properly defend yourself."

Harley beamed - and Dick took that as a great satisfactory.

As soon as Dick left, Harley didn't fully realize just how tired she really was.

Making her way blindly through the spacious house to a bedroom - once her head hit the comfort of a pillow - she instantly fell into a deep dream state of endless possibilities to find her Puddin.

Harley would be ready to show Joker what she was truly capable of after her training. IF he didn't find her first. And if he did... she wouldn't mind at the least.

And she hoped for it.

 **GOTHAM**

The florescent lights were blinding, and bounced off the already white walls. The room was quaint. All but a marble table, a sterile sink, and a few chairs that occupied the small area.

Joker sat shirtless in one of the square chairs in front of the cold hard table. His skin - almost blending in with the already bright atmosphere. The only thing separating his defined physique from the pale walls, were the tattoos that danced along every crevice of his body.

His expression was stern. Concerned. Unpredictable. Almost as if he were living out another life deep inside of his endless mind. He stared straight ahead; paying absolutely no attention to the little man standing beside him - pulling and tugging at his flesh with a pair of medical tweezers.

Jonny Frost stood at the entrance, keeping a watchful eye on the situation. Joker's second pair of eyes.

"There you go, Sir Joker." The man announced as he pulled the third bronze bullet from Joker's arm.

"Next time," The man continued, "you might want to teach your men to aim. Hit the Bat, NOT you."

Joker cureled his crimson lip upward, as a low but noticeable growl rumbled in his chest.

The man instantly realized his mistake and tried to retract his statement, "Sir! I really didn't mean to-"

"Cut his hand off." Joker sneered, as he incoherently flexed his fingers towards Frost.

The man panicked, "No, no, no. Please, sir! I'm one of your trusted Doctors! I work with my hands!"

Joker grunted and lifted his palm to stop Frost.

The Doctor exhaled in relief.

Joker, eyes still glazed with an unknown distraction, bared his metal grill. "Cut off his toes."

Frost roughly grabbed the panic-stricken Doctor by the shoulders and began to drag him away.

"On second thought," Joker's tone was icy, "Take the whole foot!"

Joker squinted his eyes and his mouth opened wide with pleasure. He looked wild, more feral than usual. Showing off his metal teeth as a cracked laugh escaped his blood-stained lips. "HA-HA!"

As Frost dragged the yelling Doctor from the room, Joker had already reeled in his temporary joke of the Doctor losing a  
foot. The Clown barely moved an inch. Still entangled in the void of his mind, he slightly swayed from left to right - almost as if watching something else unfold behind is own eye sockets.

The stiff cracking of bones echoed just behind the door, as ear piercing screams of agony could be heard throughout the building.

Almost as if Joker was traveling back and forth to reality, the crying of the man brought him to for a split second. "Oh, come on, Doc-tor!" Joker mocked, "Pain is only subjective!"

Joker still sat his seat, now absorbing the blood-curling cries. Frost returned to his post at the door - as his white collared shirt now stained with spots of red.

The muffled yelps of pain still trailed behind the door as Joker was muttering low incomprehensible nonsense.

Frost then reached into his blazer pocket, and retrieved a universal remote that controlled just about every device in the  
building.

 _'Mozart: Requiem In D Minor, K 626'_

One of the few things that Frost knew Boss took comfort in.

The music softly invaded Jokers ears. The combination of painful cries and Mozart blended so well together.

Joker carelessly leaned back in his chair, his foot gently placed under the table before him to keep from toppling completely backwards.

He leaned as far back as his leg would allow him. While tilting his head back, eyes closed, only to lose himself in a complete chaotic symphony.

'The police would have taken her.' Joker thought. 'Possibly in custody, closely watched, a safe house maybe.'

He didn't know why he was letting Harley distract him. Joker had plans that he needed to put into action already.

Maybe this was the blessing he had been hoping for. Harley was gone. And Joker wouldn't be able to get near her any time soon.

NO more distractions.  
NO more mistakes.  
NO more Harley Quinn.

And yet - here he was. Distracted.

Harley was nowhere in sight, and yet he was still distracted by that beautiful and yet degrading creature.

Joker fought the feelings that attempted to come to surface. He didn't need her. and he had work to do.

Suddenly, Joker abruptly pulled himself back, shot up from his seat, and jumped onto the table.

Sure that he buried his mixed feelings for a petty girl, he casually walked across the marble table barefoot. Joker's face was feral. A silver smile stretched from one ear to the other.

"Come on, Jonny Boy." Joker urged. "Let's have some fun."

* * *

 **7 MONTHS LATER**

Time. Time could be a blessing or a curse. In Harley's case, it was both.

Joker never came looking for her. At least that's what Harley thought. And this both saddened and angered her. She became so angry that she started to train with her self-defense teacher seven days a week; eight hours a day. Just to distract her from the mental pain that she drowned in.

Harley became so committed, that after three months of being in the safe house and deemed okay to go back to her apartment... she declined.

Instead, Harley made a deal with Commissioner Gordon to help aide in the capture of Joker when the time came. And in return... Harley got to stay in the safe house rent free, a decent salary, and officer protection. Though the deal could possibly cost her life... it was not a bad deal in her eyes. Because she knew that she wouldn't fully follow through. But Harley missed Gotham dearly. And after 7 months of being away - she was insanely homesick and ready to come back.

Gordon hadn't asked of Harley's assistance yet... but when he did, she didn't know what her next move would be. She decided to just go with the flow when the time came.

Harley had become almost a pro in her self-defense training. Conditioning her body to her will, the teachings of Krav Maga helped redirect her out of control feelings.

Harley's teacher was quite impressed with her progress. As Krav Maga was not for the faint of heart. Designed to quickly neutralize threats, Krav Maga's style was created by a world renowned wrestler, boxer, and gymnast. So it was a perfect fit for Harley. And she had Dick to thank for that, as he chose the style of combat for her. Harley even took down her teacher - whom was a very big Israeli man. He was a built and trained professional.

Dick would stop in every so often. But that's about it. Angie would continually ask about Harley and where she was... but Dick wasn't at liberty to tell her.

Halrey would keep tabs on Joker solely from the media. A spotting here and there. A bank heist there. A murder... or two... or eight! Joker was certainly making his rounds... all except to see his Harley. But Joker's recent crimes over the past few months were so sporadic, (even more than usual), and frequent - that the media claimed him trying to keep busy. Trying to distract himself possibly?

Packing only a few of her bags, Harley still wanted to keep the safe house. She wanted a backup just in case. Because with what malice she had in store... having the safe house would definitely come in handy.

Harley expressed to Commissioner Gordon that she wanted to keep the safe house for safety reasons. Which... was mostly right. Since their 'deal' was still in tact, he gladly agreed. Though - a place that Joker, the GCPD, or even Dick didn't know about would be an even smarter move as well. Harley would have to keep a look out for such a place then.

The snow came early for Gotham this year - and it cloaked the city in a pearl white blanket. It was beautiful. As the sun started to set, Harley arrived at her apartment carrying her two suitcases.

Opening her door, the apartment was spotless. The smell of fresh paint invaded her nostrils, as this place has been closed up for months. So the fresh scent of chemicals flowed freely.

It was freezing, but Harley opened a window, and her sliding glass door in an attempt to lessen the eye-watering smells.

After a shower, some pajamas, and warm coco - Harley took one last peek outside her ten story window.

To her disappointment - no suspicious vehicles parked outside.

And with a deep and disappointed huff - Harley wrapped herself in the thick and fluffy blankets of her bed. And drifted off into a deep and much needed slumber.

Because tomorrow... she was going to make sure Joker knew she was back.

* * *

The next morning's sun stared to raise high above the few clouds that were already slowly starting to fade. The beaming rays glistened over the settled snow, so it created the illusion of mini rainbows that danced around the city of Gotham. Though it was still below freezing, it was truly a sight.

Forgetting to close her open windows and sliding glass door through the night - Harley was rudely awakened by the piercing cold that stung her lungs.

Still half asleep, she clumsily staggered out of bed to close them, and switching the heater on in return.

After flopping back into bed like a dying fish, it took Harley just a few minutes of realization that she was back in Gotham.

Flipping over on her back, Harley started to silently giggle. The undertone then turned into a light chuckle. Then she suddenly erupted into a fit of high-pitched screeches of laughter. Her legs started to kick up and down as the covers on the bed flipped and whirled to the floor.

Tonight was going to be Harley's first night of constructed mayhem. She wanted to play her cards smart. Yes, she wanted to find Joker more than anything - but the pain of him not coming to find her clawed at her insides. She wanted to cause him pain, trouble... she wanted him to notice her. And to do that... was going to take some wit, corruption... _style_.

She had passed all of _his_ tests. All of _his_ games. She deserved him.

First thing first... style. Harley needed a new wardrobe. The only 'playful' piece of clothing she owned was the little black dress that she wore to the Jester Kane. It was cute, but could get boring quickly.

Harley's hair had grown to an exceptionally drastic length within the last 7 months. Well to her waist, she began to tie it back into a higher ponytail. Black jeans, black knee-high combat boots, and a dark purple turtle neck clung tightly to her every curve.

Harley's clothes have gotten just a tad tooo tight for her, as she's built some muscle under her still slim figure. More defined, more toned, more deadly.

Her training in Krav Maga has made her into a weapon.

"Never use your newfound talents unless really threatened. You've gained such skill so lethal, that I've not witness such in decades."

The wise words of Harley's self-defense teacher. He even offered her an opportunity to train in the Israeli military because she perfected the art of destruction so well. Promised a rank as well. And at that moment, Harley questioned where Dick exactly found this now known mercenary. Or if Dick even knew of her instructor's obvious hidden agendas.

As illegal, and yet fun as it sounded - she kindly declined. And most definitely... she wouldn't be taking his advice.

Harley couldn't wait to see what she was capable of.

* * *

Dekkard Town Center was a massive structure compared even to the City Hall. The four-story shopping center was almost abstract in comparison to the rest of the Metropolis.

Harley walked with a spark in her strut; enjoying being back in her city. Pushing her typical black wire-framed glasses further up her nose, Harley took note to possibly look into contact lenses. Because Krav Maga just didn't mix well with someone who wore glasses.

'Gosh, Mistah J.' Harley thought. 'Couldn't electrocute my eye sight back, could ya?'

She giggled to herself. It was almost like her, herself, was her only source of comfort these days. The only one who truly understood her. Besides her mother - rest her soul.

'Mistah J understands me.' Harley continued her private conversation with herself. 'He knew what laid dormant in me. Why on earth would he have given that advice in the bank those years ago? Why would he take the time to have others follow me? Give me gifts? Kiss me... abandon me?'

'Now there goes your over thinking! Stop it, Harley!'

"You stop it!"

Harley stopped and instinctively put her hand over her mouth when she spoke out loud to her own self. A faint chuckle escaped through her fingers. Suddenly, a quick 'THUD' slightly pushed her forward as a young man bumped into her from behind... and was that a pinch on her butt?!

"Sorry, Miss!" The guy laughed as he leaned into Harley's personal bubble. "So, hey."

Harley curled her lip in distaste as this young man's ego was being fed through the three other male peasants giggling like school girls. The three of them stood nearby, watching as their friend continued this poor excuse of a performance.

"Want to spend the night at my place, sexy?" He smiled. "The couch doesn't pull out, but I do."

"OOHHHHHHH!" His three other friends cried out in triumph as this rude young man went galloping towards them with his hand in the air for a childish high-five of false victory.

Harley raised her eyebrows in total confusion. 'Is this really how men pick up women nowadays? Does it really work? Welcome back to Gotham.'

"So..." The young man winked at Harley as he invaded her space yet again. "What do you say?"

Harley rolled her eyes and deeply sighed as she inched closer to the man's ear and whispered, "I'd say..."

And with a burst of blinding speed, she took hold of the man's wrist, spun him around, and pinned his arm in an awkward position to the point of instant pain.

He then tried to whip his other arm around with an instinctive balled-up fist, only for Harley to be quicker and more skillful than his slow attempt.

She grabbed his fist and twisted it behind him in the same fashion as the other.

"I'd say to go fuck yourself." Harley hissed.

"Dude!" One of his buddies yelled out as the other three ran to their friend's aide.

Harley pulled upward HARD on the guy she held hostage - therefore, surely ripping his tendons and then releasing him.

He won't be coming back for round two.

Swiftly reaching into her pocket, Harley grabbed a pink pair of brass knuckles. The second guy came rushing into her. Harley's violent thrust of her brass fist came crushing into the man's face, sending her glasses to the ground and knocking him out cold.

Then one kick to a shin, and a flat hand to a throat - the other two fell to the ground.

Harley fought dirty. But not dirty enough to kick a man in the groin.

Never kick a man in the dick, was Harley's moto. Unless it's a life or death situation. Or... if he cheats on you. Then you cut it off.

Pocketing her bubble-gum pink brass knuckles, Harley smiled. "That was great boys!" She chuckled, as she stepped over two of them grunting in pain. "Thanks for the practice! I needed a warm up!"

Harley then spotted her thankfully unbroken glasses and picked them up with a sigh. 'Glasses and Krav Maga didn't mix well. Contacts." She reminded herself as she made a mental shopping list.

And with a light pat on the head of the one poor brave sap whom tried to get a cheap lay... Harley strut off. Even slowing down to almost pose for the on-lookers who had already taken out their phones and no doubt, filming.

 **GOTHAM  
** **6:48PM**

A pin board, stretching a possible twelve feet in length - was covered in blueprints. a green highlighter traced the way through each and every print - looking only like pointless scribbles to one who didn't know what they were looking at. And off to the side of the long pin board, was a list labeled: Cocktail. With the following underneath:

Strychnine  
Hydrogen Cyanide H-C=N  
Methamphetamine  
MDMA  
Nitrous Oxide N=N-O

A list of chemicals that no one questioned.

The room was spacious. A warehouse of a room solely for work, lounge, and secrecy. Eighteen stories high, the large windows loomed over Gotham. The massive rectangular business building rented out each floor - typically to power hungry organizations who usually conducted illegal activities within their businesses. Except for the top floor which was always occupied by only one.

The massive pin board stood over the black-tiled flooring and celling. The deep velvet-red chairs littered the place, an extended full service bar, and an arsenal that would arm a small army.

The owner of this luxurious war-zone sat on the black satin couch that rounded in shape.

Joker.

Joker sat back with his legs spread slightly apart - gawking at the pin board. The HVAC System blue prints consumed his attention, as he focused on the green highlighter - memorizing every twist and turn that was drawn.

His black slacks, as per usual, fit loose yet snug in just the right places. His maroon dress shirt was half way unbuttoned so that the white toned flesh glowed every time he would make even the faintest of movements.

The numerous gold rings that littered his fingers gripped onto a brilliant purple cane that balanced in front of him. The diamonds that graced the handle would make even the Queen of England blush.

The massive flat screen television behind him, echoed throughout the place. A few of Joker's men sat quietly near it, taking in the news.

A few more indulged at the bar, others cleaning weaponry, and dozens on guard.

On the far side of the quarters, a part was sectioned off - as a handful of men and women in white lab coats eagerly focused on blending chemicals, entering in computer data, and scribbling their findings.

Jonny Frost, in his typical generic black suit, stood obediently behind Joker - always scanning his surroundings.

One of Joker's goons carelessly then stepped in front of Joker's view of the HVAC blueprints whilst popping peanuts into his mouth. Turning to face the pin board, the clueless goon turned his back on his Boss, and inspected the board.

'Ya know, Mister Joker." The guy continued as he tossed a handful of peanuts in his mouth, "I dunno what you got planned, but that sure is a work of art."

Frost took two steps back and away from Joker, as he knew the Clown Prince very well - and the inevitable was about to unfold.

And within a bat of an eye, Joker dropped his cane and upholstered his pistol as he swiftly stood up. His eager finger gently squeezed the trigger and hit the man directly in the head.

Thankfully, the blueprints only suffered a few tiny droplets of red as they were far enough away and safe from the damaging blood splatter.

The instant corpse limply fell to the hard floor. The thick blood pumped out of the fatal wound and blended with the black-tiled floor.

Frost took his place once again next to Joker.

"The new guy, Sir." Frost blandly explained. Not that there was any excuse for the dead man's actions.

Joker bared his silver teeth in agitation, and his voice came out more of a growl. "I thought I hired mostly ex military and mercenaries. What the fuck is this?"

Joker rotated his wrist in circle, gun still in hand. He tilted his head to the side, and ran his hand along the side of his head - as if to slick back his already groomed emerald hair.

His movements were slow and steady - as if Joker had trouble concentrating on reality.

Frost noticed this. It was as if Joker had finally blended the line of genius and insanity. Ever since Boss had come back from Arkham. Ever since the last escapade with Doctor Harleen Quinzel in her apartment months ago. Boss was still distracted. He was different at times too. Though it would come and go, not anyone noticed it... but Frost did. And for the first time ever in Jonny Frost's long years of being Joker's loyal henchman - this was a battle he could not help him with.

Joker rolled his neck and took his seat once again. Motioning with his gun hand to a few much more experienced men, he snarled, "Clean this up."

Joker had no time to bask in bloodshed just yet. His glorious plan was just about finished and he was eager to put it into action. One of his biggest games yet.

Devices that only Joker knew how to operate were already planted around the city, thanks to the blueprints. And a certain cocktail recipe was just about done.

'This is Channel Four Gotham City News. Only reporting the best to our city. In todays report-'

The television echoed throughout the area and caused Joker to lift his irritated eyes towards Frost. Most of the time, Frost didn't need any spoken words from Joker.

Frost turned around and walked to the flat screen television so he could turn it down a notch. But when the volume didn't change, Joker felt himself starting to lose his grip on his already short temper.

"Um, Boss." Frost exclaimed. "You might want to take a look at this."

The news reporter continued, 'Witnesses say that this woman defended herself from a sexual advancement. Though the video we're about to show you was filmed with a cell phone - It is difficult to identify the woman. Some claim that it could be the very same Doctor Harleen Quinzel who suffered two known attacks from the infamous Joker because she was treating him 7 months ago.'

The name - Harleen Quinzel, pierced through Jokers ears and all the way through his cold soul.

His pain was untold, and the darkness of his obsession pushed through his veins.

He slowly turned toward the television and stood. His predatory gaze now on the video of a gorgeous blonde woman fluidly beating four men down - as if it were a well designed choreography.

She was beautiful. And Joker's jaw hung unhinged as his crystal blue eyes dilated until they were almost black.

He knew that hair, that body, the shape of her face very well. It was his Harley Quinn - and she's grown into a fine work of destructive art. My oh, my, what has she been up to all this time? The one question that Joker was _dying_ to have answered.

Joker couldn't control his shallow breaths. His bare white chest heaved every time he inhaled, as his tattoos danced in the same fashion.

A surge of feelings erupted from within him. Joker could feel the attraction that he felt for this woman break free of the mental box that he worked so hard to put away. This array of mixed feelings were still very alien to him - and he still didn't want them to emerge.

But simply seeing Harley on just a television screen, confirmed that his attraction was never boxed up in the first place... but only lay dormant. His attempts of constant murder, rampages, and robberies were all a failure of distraction. And with no known way to express his silent battle, he found himself smiling in an unholy manner. And his vocal cords came alive as he squinted his now black eyes and filled every ear in the massive room with his infamous and sinister slow laugh.

"HA-HA-HA-H _AAAAA_."

Joker's voice cracked with a grunting purr. Frost hadn't heard that particular laugh in a while. It was the laugh of complete chaos. The laugh of the Clown Prince of Crime. And as most wouldn't dare want to hear such a sound, Frost welcomed it in comparison to the last seven months of complete blurred nonsense from his Boss. Joker's laugh was clarity to Frost. His signature.

Joker hung his mouth open as he took in the last few seconds of the grainy cell phone video of Harley. She had turned towards the camera, smiled, and... did she wink?

She was leaving sugar trails for him. But he didn't want to give in to his sweet tooth just yet.

Even though Joker was still fighting his odd obsession with this woman - seeing where she was, and confirming that she was in fact okay - gave him some kind of resolution. Yet the itch to be in her presence - to dominate her still clawed at his insides.

Joker would be lying to himself if he were to say that he didn't think of Harley in the past seven months. In fact, he did try looking for her. But after even visiting Harley's apartment on multiple occasions in just a few weeks after the encounter with the Batman and Nightwing to see if she was there... he took the opportunity of her disappearance as a blessing for his sanity. Because what a poor and risky decision on his behalf to appear at her apartment so soon after such incidents with Gotham's vigilantes.

Joker could've been caught. Unintentionally this time, and thrown into Arkham. What a pain in the ass that would have been.

But... what if they brought his Doctor back to 'treat' him? He would then know where she was. And simply being around her was always intoxicating.

And right there - is why Joker didn't continue his search for Harley. His Harley Quinn. His distraction. But he had always had a gut feeling that she would come back. But after months went by, Joker started to question Harley's loyalty that she showed in Arkham. A foolish thing to think - as he brushed away his own insecurity. Joker never had any insecure feelings as far as he could remember... until Harley entered his life.

It was frustrating. How he had let this little minx sink her claws deep within his tainted flesh.

"Should we send someone after her, Boss?" Frost finally asked as he noticed Joker's face now twisting in a complex manner.

Joker's growl was deep and rich. "No. Not yet. I'll let my Harley-Girl make her rounds. Let's see if she can perform."

And that was one of Joker's first mistakes.

 **GOTHAM  
7:42PM**

Harley Quinn. The image of a flesh and blood goddess. She stood abnormally still in front of the blue neon sign. The letters in a bold font read: Iceberg Lounge.

The faint blue glow gave Harley's fair skin a tinge of inhuman characteristics. Her long blonde hair hung to her waist, her black eye shadow complimenting her striking aqua eyes that were even brighter than the sign before her. The cold air didn't phase Harley as her brilliant form fitting gold sequin dress sparkled in comparison to the snow covered streets.

Walking towards the entrance of the lounge, Harley's dress swayed with her every step. The way it loosely hung mid-thigh, the back exposed, and the draping front exposed more than any would dare on a freezing night such as this.

Glancing at the line of people to get in, Harley remembered the extra special treatment that she received when her and Angie went to the Jester Kane. Harley wondered if her reputation has kept up. Even though she dared tread on another gangster's territory - Harley knew that Joker did more business than creating trouble with the infamous Penguin.

Harley approached the burly door man and graced him with a dazzling smile. Though the door man was bewitched by Harley's beauty, he kept his professionalism.

"Miss Quinzel." He acknowledged as he opened the door for her.

"Harley Quinn, Love." Harley chuckled, as she playfully tapped his nose with her index finger. "And don'tchya forget."

The vast openness of the lounge was quite stunning. The atmosphere cooed with a light jazz from the live band that occupied a stage near the back. The walls glowed the same faint blue as the exterior - only for them to be covered in realistic icebergs. The center of the club was occupied by a massive iceberg structure that caught Harley's attention as she made her way towards it. She gently extended her hand to touch it, only to quickly retract it by surprise.

A real iceberg. Carved in the finest of details. The ice put off a divine illumination as the vaporing fog danced around the sculpture.

"You like my work of art, Miss Quinn?"

A raspy voice came from beside Harley as she didn't even hear anyone approach her. Only Harley's eyes moved toward the voice as she smiled in delight.

"Mistah Oswald Cobblepot." She mused.

The slender man's lips thinned as he grinned in delight. He leaned most of his weight on a black and gold cane in the shape of an umbrella. His overly shiny black pointy shoes, looking a tad too big for his size, pointed to the outside in an awkward manner. His jet black hair was styled just as oddly as one would expect. Styled half up, and half in his face - it brought out the deep green eyes that closely studied Harley carefully.

"And it's finally a pleasure to meet the one woman brave enough to endure a mad man and live to tell the tale." Oswald beamed, as if testing the waters with Harley.

Harley only giggled, "What a cute little Penguin ya are!"

Oswald's smile faded, only unsure of such a woman who associated with the Clown. But... you always want to keep your enemies close. Now only to decide... was Harley friend or foe?

"And what do I owe this pleasure, Miss Harley Quinn?" Oswald's tone turned a little bit stern, but resumed his thin smile.

"I'm here to collect Mistah J's business transaction."

Harley knew nothing of any business transactions, but only seeing if Oswald would take the bait.

Oswald snickered. "Joker has told me nothing of coming to collect today. And when he does," Oswald continued as he leaned further into his cane, "it's usually his most trusted henchmen. And I know each and every one of them by name. Or himself. Especially for the big collections... which in this case..." Oswald tilted his head slightly forward so that his pointy nose more resembled that of a bird's beak, "it should be him standing here."

'I'm on to something!' Harley thought excitedly.

Harley's eyes flickered ruthlessly. And as she came in closer to Oswald, it was no secret that he could feel the power radiating from her aura. It was both fascinating and unnerving to him. What an interesting woman he thought. Oswald could see why anyone would be drawn to this woman - especially the Joker.

"Oh, Mistah Cobblepot! Why would I get all dressed up and come all the way out here for nothin'? Eh?"

Oswald backed away from her advances, raised his eyebrows, and shook his head from side to side. "My, dear. Maybe because you're just as crazy as he is."

Harley beamed.

Not satisfied with her response, Oswald cringed his lips together. "And where is your protection, Miss Quinn? For such a hefty amount that you want to collect, surely the Clown wouldn't send just one silly girl."

Oswald then smiled as he finally got the deflated look from the stunning blonde before him.

"And besides," he continued, "How do I even know that you work for him? You were his Doctor in Arkham. Maybe I should give him a call..."

As Oswald pulled his phone from his dark purple blazer, Harley quickly snatched the device and dangled it teasingly in front of him. As quick as she was, Oswald's men were just as fast. Two pistols were aimed at Harley - and Oswald smiled in triumph. But his winnings were cut short as Harley started to cackle uncontrollably and playfully shoved a finger in one of the pistol's barrels.

Oswald's brows formed a deep V, and soon wondered if Harley was one to collide with. She was absolutely fearless. And he didn't want a scene in his lounge... or trouble with the Joker for that matter. But a brilliant and manipulative thought came to surface for Oswald. Even if Harley didn't work for Joker, Oswald knew that the Clown didn't particularly have any interest in money. What business that they did conduct, was solely over power trips. And as much as Oswald did favor his green paper - Joker thought it entertaining to make such high demands. So... here is Oswald's chance to clown the Clown.

Though the situation was unclear, it was no secret in Gotham's Underworld of Joker being tangled with a Doctor Quinzel. So if this woman is now claiming to be under Joker's demands, then so be it. Oswald had his suspicions that Harley was probably not working under Joker, but he liked the fact that a beautiful and witty woman such as this had the guts to fuck with the Clown Prince. Because no one in their right mind would even think of doing such a thing.

"Right this way, Miss Quinn. I have it in cash." Oswald smiled as Harley dropped his phone into his open palm. "And you know what, young lady? If you live through this, which Joker may in fact have a heart if you do, you should come and do some dealings with me."

"I'll keep that in mind, Ozzy." Harley winked.

"You do realize what you're doing, Doctor? We're all monsters here. And there's no going back."

Harley's face, for once, turned serious. "Our hearts are monsters, Mistah Cobblepot. That's why our ribs are cages."

And as Harley walked away with half a million dollars - Oswald Cobblepot raised a glass of fizzy champagne in farewell and hopefully, some sweet entertainment. Because... he kind of liked the girl.

* * *

Driving in her black Mercedes, Harley was in hysterics! Costing Joker a half a million dollars felt amazing. The money sat safely in a briefcase on her backseat. She pocketed some cash as the night was still young. What else could she do to Joker?

Accelerating to unsafe speeds, it was still not fast enough to satisfy her cravings for a thrill.

"Piece of crap." Harley muttered as she slapped the steering wheel.

And then another escapade shone through Harley's excitement. She knew of a fast car. A famous car that was always spotted in the streets of Gotham. Oswald would surely let Joker know of their transaction immediately. And as short tempered as Mistah J was... he'd definitely show up at the lounge in that fancy and beautiful purple Lamborghini.

* * *

The message was brief. Unexpected. Careless.

The purple Lamborghini came to an abrupt stop; followed by three other black SUVs. Joker arrived at the Iceberg Lounge after he was notified of his half a million dollar due was already paid.

Did someone steal from him? If they did... they were a walking corpse. As well as their family. Joker had no remorse for such an act towards him. Though... this was somewhat entertaining. What kind of crazy moron wanted such a death wish? There was only one known pest that dared defy the Clown Prince. And he wore tights and a cape. Not even Nightwing has attempted to pursuit Joker on his own. So whoever this was... wanted to die. Slowly.

The Iceberg Lounge buzzed with life as Joker made his way into the building. Every single person about ran out of his way, and clearing an easy path for him. Even Penguin's men let him by with no questions asked.

Guests of the Lounge stole a glance here and there of the Clown who was flanked by a dozen of his own heavily armed henchmen. Including Frost - whom kept a close watch on every pair of curious eyes that bore in their direction.

Joker was always a fascinating eye candy to the citizens of Gotham. His name held power within the walls of every building he would enter and beyond. Joker's iconic long purple snake skin coat hugged his shirtless chest. Numerous gold chains caressed against his neck, and his black slacks fit snug around his physique and black boots. Definitely a sight for the guests of the Lounge.

A surge of temper flooded over Joker's already penetrating gaze as he caught sight of Oswald approaching with a grin.

Joker snarled, but kept walking straight past Oswald and headed to the private lounge which was located in the back.

The room was small, a private bar, a massive big screen television, a small dance floor, and a quaint throne where Oswald sat to conduct his business meetings and such related dealings.

As soon as Joker pushed his way through and casually sat in Oswald's velvet throne - everyone else in the room, including the bartender, made a hasty exit.

Joker liked sitting in Oswald's chair. It was to mock him. A silent warning to Oswald that Joker was capable and not to mess with. It was dominance in his eyes.

But Oswald didn't care at the moment, as he strode into the room using his umbrella cane to balance his limping pace. He couldn't help the smile that blossomed even bigger across his face. The entertainment was not a disappointment so far. A costly entertainment, but worth it.

"You're so unpredictable." Oswald mused. "But at least your business is stable."

Joker swallowed back the hot anger. "Who."

It wasn't a question, but a demand.

"A woman came through. Claimed that she worked for you."

Joker's chest tightened. He hadn't expected that answer, and his suspicion of such a woman was probably correct.

"HA!" Joker impulsively reacted. "Annnnnnnnd you just... handed over $500,000 to a woman who claimed to work for me?"

"She threatened me with intelligence. What a beautiful creature. She may even have you beat, Sir Joker."

Joker's body reacted quicker than his mind. Drawing his pistol and thrusting himself forward to come face to face with Oswald. He pointed the purple and gold pistol under Cobblepot's chin.

Every armed henchman in the room, including Oswald's, drew their weapons. Ready for an old fashioned shoot out to erupt.

Joker's breaths were shallow, his gaze never wavering from Oswald's now concerned face. Joker's aggressive demeanor was not hard to mistake. These were dangerous grounds that Oswald was currently prancing on, and he'd better take it down a notch. Even though he knew that this wasn't a war that even the Clown wanted to start - Oswald knew that Joker would eventually have victory if such a battle did break out. Solely because of the Clown's fearlessness, genius capabilities, and power that he possessed.

A bead of sweat rolled down Oswald's face. "She was very persistent. Almost like she knew you." Oswald stammered.

Joker curled his red lips, "And what did this so-called woman look like?"

"Well her nam-..." Oswald trailed off as his attention was soon redirected to the massive big screen television. Oswald lifted a shaking finger and pointed to the LIVE news feed on the screen. "She looked like that."

As Joker turned around to face the screen, Oswald snorted abruptly. He couldn't contain his raspy laugh of pure delight.

There on the news - it was LIVE - Joker's purple Lamborghini that was supposed to be parked just outside was racing at top speeds on a highway. After what seemed like hours, but only minutes passed, Joker didn't move an inch from the television. He then witnessed his exotic vehicle come to a crawl into the heart of Gotham's downtown. Then... a blonde woman with a stunning gold dress leaned out of the driver's side window.

But what was more noticeable than her stunning figure, was the bright white cream makeup that covered her face. Her black eye shadow was smeared across her eyes, and brilliant red lipstick was drawn over her lips and went from ear to ear in a clownish smile.

She was mocking the Joker.

But before Joker could react to her daring makeup decision - suddenly - handfuls of cash were being thrown out of the car. The streets were suddenly littered with cash. Mobs of people started to run into the streets grabbing what they could of the free money.

The car was then surprisingly lost within the growing crowd.

Jonny Frost was the first one to notice Joker's ridged stance. For once, the Clown Prince of Gotham was utterly speechless.

Joker wanted to shoot Oswald. Just to create some form of violence. Maybe a war would distract him from Harley. Joker was trying so hard to keep his foreign feelings in check. But Harley was going to make sure that didn't happen.

Without a word, Joker headed for the door - only to whip his pistol to the side and completely knock out one of Oswald's men. Joker's own men flanked the back, instinctively raised their weapons in response. Just in case Oswald dared to challenge Joker's actions.

"Dammit! Clown!" Oswald spat as he forcefully hit his cane to the floor. But then he looked at the LIVE news feed once again, and started to lightly giggle. It seems like the Joker had a problem on his hands, and that brought joy to Oswald's life.

He really did like this Harley Quinn.

* * *

Joker had taken the driver's seat in the black SUV, as Frost sat in the passenger's side gripping the door lever tightly.

Joker, fueled by rage, flew as fast as the bulky SUV would go. The other two black vehicles filled with his other men followed - trying to keep up with Joker's road rage the best they could.

Arriving at Harley's apartment, Joker took no care to his surroundings, as he practically jumped from the still moving vehicle.

Frost trailed close; scanning the area for any possible threats.

This would be the second time that Joker would kick Harley's door off of its hinges. A second time too many. This had to stop.

The apartment was dark, and it didn't look like anyone was there. Joker slowly scanned the living room as Frost started to switch on light after light. The rest of his men caught up, and helped look around the different parts of the small apartment.

Joker than made his way to Harley's bedroom, his eyes wild and searching for his adoring creation. Her bedsheets were sprawled to the floor.

'She's been here.' Joker thought.

But he didn't want to linger - as the last time ended up attracting an unwanted crowd.

Joker's tendons popped out against his pale skin. The air was suffocating and full of tension. Grinding his grill, Joker raised a finger and gestured to his men.

Knowing what queue was given, the heavily armed men unloaded their weapons - spraying damaging bullets in every corner of the newly renovated apartment.

Joker closed his eyes, leaned slightly back, and cupped his hands beside his ears. As if to welcome the sharp destructive sounds of the weaponry, and destroying everything in their path.


End file.
